From Blood & Ashes
by Savannah O'Ryan
Summary: Troy Bolton will admit that the new paramedic at East Fire House has unorthodox treatment ideas and fairly advanced emergency skills. She didn't learn them working the streets of Albuquerque, but as Troy learns of Gabriella's past piece by piece, he's left wondering if her past is still haunting her.
1. Prologue

**From Blood & Ashes**

~*~

This is the clock upon the wall  
This is the story of us all  
This is the first sound of a newborn child,  
Before he starts to crawl  
This is the war that's never won  
This is a soldier and his gun  
This is the mother waiting by the phone,  
Praying for her son

Pictures of you, pictures of me  
Hung upon your wall for the world to see  
Pictures of you, pictures of me  
Remind us all of what we used to be

There is a drug that cures it all  
Blocked by the governmental wall  
We are the scientists inside the lab,  
Just waiting for the call  
This earthquake weather has got me shaking inside  
I'm high up and dry

Confess to me, every secret moment  
Every stolen promise you believed  
Confess to me, all that lies between us  
All that lies between you and me

We are the boxers in the ring  
We are the bells that never sing  
There is a title we can't win no matter  
How hard we might swing

Pictures of you, pictures of me  
Hung upon your wall for the world to see  
Pictures of you, pictures of me  
Remind us all of what we could have been

-_Pictures of You_, The Last Goodnight


	2. Chapter One

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter One**

"_**The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on **__**fire**__**.**__**"-Ferdinand Marshall Foch**_

* * *

_The dry air brought dust and sand into her tiny room that was shared with three other women. She lay on her narrow, standard issue cot with her knees drawn up to her chest and weariness evident in every line of her body. Her heavily lashed, dark chocolate eyes were closed and her breathing remained even as the breeze filtered through the gaps in the olive green, army supplied tent and cast dirt across the entrance ways and the floor. The mosquito net was draped and securely attached above her, keeping the pests out and one less worry off her mind. On the floor, her sandals lay scattered next to her two simple bags. _

_One held her minimal belongings. Appropriate clothing for the weather and location, minimal toiletries after months away from any major city had diminished her supplies down to tampons and soap, and a tiny photo album that she had brought as a reminder of what was waiting if she survived. The pages were worn and the colors faded after being viewed in the harsh sun for hours on end by herself and the inhabitants of her overcrowded community who wanted to see the life of luxury their saviours willingly left behind to come to this place. The second bag was marked with a bold red cross and held the essential medical supplies for any call outside the designated borders of her station. The outer pouches held considerable amounts of morphine for the times that came too frequently and with too much acceptance. _

_The flaps of her tent flapped against the breeze as it wove its way over the site. Multitudes of tents and hastily erected, makeshift homes stood stark on the plain. The scrappy shrubs of the bush sprouted around rocks, sucking life from deep underground in rations until the rainy season arrived to feed its needs. Larger tents marked the offices of overseers and organizers and people who needed to know what the fuck was going on at the moment. People who held the ignorant in their hands as they scanned radio waves and communicated with small teams of lookouts. They held the medical teams and the journalists; the foreigners and the privileged who had given up money and safety for uncertainty and a little bit of heroism. _

_She shifted in her sleep, her loose cotton shirt riding up to expose the tan lines that indicated how the sun had darkened her already golden complexion. The loose waist of her pants circled slim hips that had been rounder upon her arrival, but food rations and a difficult adjustment to changes in her diet had cost her precious pounds. Her hair was messily caught up in a colourful headscarf that kept the curls at bay during the day so that it was easier to tease out the knots in the night. She moved again, frowning in her sleep as something pulled her from the depths of her dreams. _

_In the distance, a booming thundered as it vibrated across the plain. The sound of jeeps and trucks, their motors in tune as they rumbled across rough roads, buzzed ahead of the thunder. It was the increasing closeness of the screams that startled her awake and caused her to push aside the netting and shove her feet into sandals while moving on autopilot. The first bag went over her shoulders, settling across her back, and the other was slung across her right shoulder, certain to be used in the coming hours. The water canteen at the foot of her bed, filled with precious fluid, was clipped in place before she pushed aside the tent entrance and stepped into the harshly blinding sun. _

_Truck engines could be heard approaching along the road and she turned in the opposite direction, seeking the familiar voice above the cries and shouts of terror. Dark skinned children streamed under foot, carrying what little they could, searching for someone to give them direction. Mothers with babies followed, their battered cooking dishes bundled in their arms. The men and boys barely reaching puberty ran past her to the road entrance where the engines could be heard. She heard the familiar sound of gun fire and the shouts of orders and demands in Arabic reached her ears as she met her colleagues and began organizing the people around her into groups for a one time only attempt at evacuation. _

_The noise level rose as panic infused itself in the residents. The buzzing grew louder as the caravan reached the outer regions of the camp. Shots were heard and she tried to reassure a small boy, with a metal pot and a soccer ball. in halting words said with an atrocious accent. He tried to understand her with wide eyes before being pulled away by his terrified mother. Dust thickened the air, stirred by the huge wheels carrying the men marked by rifles and camouflage fatigues with armbands. The gun fire became closer, and she could smell the blood on the air. _

_Voices were drowned out by the rattling of metal on metal and the screams of those in the way. This was where it always hit her that she was not at home. That her spontaneous moment of needing to do something real could have drastic consequences. She looked around frantically, trying to find the familiar dark bob of hair and the coffee cream skin tones of her best friend. She stood on her tiptoes as people streamed around her, the ground rippling beneath her feet and terror only barely held at bay, trying to locate the glint of a camera lens or the reflection of sun off the shutter. Unable to find her, she turned to help another friend gather the groups together to head towards the covered trucks kept for this purpose. _

_Behind her, dust rose in tornadoes as steel booted feet ripped at the earth. Metal flashed in the sun as barrels were aimed or knives were lowered. The screams filled her ears as someone lifted her into the back of a truck and yelled to the driver in French, his voice harsh as he choked on the dust before swinging himself up and in beside her. He saw the question in her eyes and shrugged, not knowing who else had managed to leave before them. Behind them, obscured by the swirling sand, the screams and the roar of more trucks faded......_

Gabriella Montez bolted up in bed, sweat covering her face as her hands flew to rub her eyes. Her breath came in pants as she tried to separate the past from the present. Sighing, she looked around her room, settling her gaze on the alarm clock flashing beside the bed. Groaning while she pulled slender fingers through her tangled hair, she swung her feet to the floor and left to start the coffee in the kitchen.

The apartment was small and unadorned for the most part. Her furniture was of good quality but practical and comfortable, the windows covered by curtains that she rarely closed. Enlarged and framed photographs, boasting a familiar signature in the lower corner were scattered throughout the rooms and the narrow hallway. In fact, there was very little about the place that spoke to its owner. There had been more to it over a year ago, the rooms brightly decorated with knickknacks and snapshots, books and magazines. Most of it had been boxed up a year ago, and she had yet to feel the desire to bring it back when everything was so different. On her way back to her room, she passed the tightly closed door to the second bedroom on the left and a shudder rippled through her even though the temperatures outside and inside boasted high reaching magnitudes.

After showering and twisting her hair up into a braid that kept it tameable, she returned to her room and pulled on the neat navy blue pants that hung slightly more loose than was stylish and the short-sleeved blouse with the Albuquerque Emergency Services emblem embroidered on both arms and the front pocket. The required, heavy black boots were pulled on next and then the carved wooden pendent that rested on the slim gold chain around her neck. Grabbing the jacket that she wouldn't need but thought to take anyway, and her oversized tote filled with essentials, she left the apartment and walked down the six flights of stairs to the shiny new jeep she both loved and hated.

Sighing, she double checked the backseat to see her kit bag already inspected and packed to her liking, her name emblazoned across the front, sitting on the floor. Putting the car into gear, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the firehouse in the Eastern quadrant of the city.


	3. Chapter Two

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Two**

"_**Love is the **__**Fire**__** of Life; it either consumes or purifies**__**" –Anonymous**_

* * *

Troy Bolton leaned lazily against the metal of his locker door and surveyed his friend with a mocking grin. His hair lay in disarray as it fell into his eyes no matter how many times he flicked it away and the sleeves of his dark blue shirt were rolled up to expose his forearms. His feet were crossed at the ankles, the black boots polished and the dark blue pants matching his shirt. His shoulder dug into the door as Chad Danforth shot him an annoyed look that did nothing to quell the laughter in Troy's blue eyes.

"Dude, it's not funny. What am I supposed to do with a rookie?" Chad asked, irritation laced through his bitter voice. "I mean, how am I supposed to do my job if I'm constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure they haven't killed someone yet?"

Troy's grin grew bigger as the paramedic ran a hand in frustration through his tightly curled hair. It was obvious from the moment their Chief had announced a newly assigned paramedic would be joining them that they would have the pleasure of being Chad's partner. Having spent the past two months dealing with medics pulled from various other firehouses in the city on their days off to staff the East House, it was about time that a permanent medic be stationed at the house, but it didn't make Chad any happier to know that they weren't experienced with the local departments.

"Why me? Why not give them to Baylor? He's been here longer so he should get the rookie. I'll take Evans and give him the new kid," Chad insisted, slamming his locker shut and leaning his back against it with his arms folded over his chest as he stared ahead at the gleaming red engine parked in the garage.

"I don't understand why you're so against this. You've been complaining about having a partner since Dixon retired, and now that you're getting one, you won't shut up." Troy quirked an eyebrow as he waited for Chad's answer but all he did was glower. "Seriously, dude, you're acting like a princess who has been told she needs to share."

"It's not that," Chad snapped, sighing as his stance relaxed, "But Chief kept rambling on about mentoring and showing them the ropes; I'm not that kind of guy. I don't know how to mentor. The first time I did a run, I threw up when we made it back here."

"So tell them that. Let them know it won't be a piece of cake," Troy suggested, pushing his shoulder away from the locker. "Do you even know their name? That would be a good start."

"Chief called him Montez," Chad told him, shrugging as they made their way to the small kitchen and living area where the rest of the house was gathered, waiting for possible calls, "Said to give them a chance- blah, blah, blah- and then something about expecting some unorthodox training." He glared when Troy smirked again. "Shut up! This sucks. I get the newbie who likes to take risks and is probably some kind of random med school drop-out who likes the thrill of ride alongs. I bet they don't last a week before they crawl back to U of A and beg for an internship in a cushy department at Mercy United."

"Give the guy a break. He may actually know what he's doing," Troy offered as they entered the room and caught the attention of the other guys in the firehouse.

Chad glared at him over his shoulder, telling him with one irate look that supporting the rookie's possible talent or passable knowledge was not a good idea at the moment. Hopping up on a stool beside Zeke Baylor and grabbing an apple from the center of the table, Troy rolled his eyes and exchanged amused looks with Ryan Evans and Jason Cross who were leaning on the other side of the island table. Chad was known to be overdramatic sometimes, but they would all readily admit that no one liked dealing with amateur paramedics.

"He's still ranting?" Zeke asked breezily, eyeing the coffee at the bottom on his cup.

"Yup," Troy nodded, watching Chad slam the fridge door closed with a bottle of water in his hand. "Have you seen Chief?"

"In his office with the new kid," Jason spoke up.

"Great," Chad drawled, spinning the top off the bottle.

* * *

Gabriella gripped her bag with sweaty fingers as she watched the Chief of East House shuffle through the folder on his desk that spelled out her life in stark, bold letters. She knew what it contained, but the idea that a stranger knew her story was unsettling. Shifting gently in the hard plastic chair, she rubbed a hand across her cheek to calm the need to fidget. She sucked in a breath as he looked up at her with a grim smile on his face.

"Well, Danforth will be pleased," he told her, folding his hands on top of the sheets of papers and steepling his fingers.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, confused but trying to keep her voice even.

"Your new partner, Chad Danforth, has been in an uproar that we are giving him a rookie medic to babysit," the Chief explained, his eyebrows pulling together as he searched her blank face, "He will be glad to know that you are far from inexperienced."

"Sir, in all honesty, I would prefer no one know about the last year," she explained softly, breaking his gaze to look down at her hands. "It's not something anyone needs to know."

"If you're sure," he replied after a pause.

The line between his eyes deepened as he took in the young woman before him. Her file held numerous recommendations from doctors, nurses and medical practitioners from all around the world. She had passed the Paramedicine test for New Mexico a month ago and the city psychologist had deemed her fit for duty. He questioned it, though, as he took in the faint circles under her eyes and the slightly pale tones of her cheeks. She was small enough to have people assuming she would break in half but her history spoke to hidden strength. He hoped Danforth would have the patience to see past his preconceived judgements and let her teach him as much as he could teach her.

"I am," she insisted, standing as he did to complete the tour he had promised earlier.

"Very well, then," the Chief told her with a brighter smile as he held open the door and gestured for her to follow, "Let me show you your new home and its charming inhabitants."

Giving him a weak smile, Gabriella followed him out of the office and down the hall to the staircase that led to the large garage that held three perfectly polished firetrucks and two ambulances. Listening as the Chief pointed out the two rooms designated for sleep during the seventy-two hour shifts that the firefighters kept, she took in the narrow cots and sparse decorations. Although she was not among that group, the Chief explained, there were extra cots for the paramedics who ended up working double shifts. She silently noted that there appeared to be feminine belongings piled in one of the rooms that held a sign with a stick figure wearing a skirt and scribbles intended to be hair. Descending the stairs, she continued to note where the showers and bathroom was, the lockers and supply closets. Her eyes skimmed hastily over the last names of her new housemates as they passed by and continued through the garage to an open door where voices could be heard.

Entering the bright kitchen and dining area behind the Chief, Gabriella paused as the conversation halted and seven heads swivelled to stare at her. She felt her cheeks flush and kicked herself for showing weakness. Trying to focus on the introductions taking place, Gabriella followed the wave of upheld hands as the Chief pointed them out one by one. She let her gaze study each one as she attempted to burn their names into her brain.

Zeke Baylor offered her a soft smile as he lazily stirred his coffee with a popsicle stick, the liquid in his cup the same shade as his skin. His medic partner, Ryan Evans, grinned at her with a sunny smile before sticking a hand across the counter top and waiting for her to take it. It was cool and dry and quickly replaced by a small hand with a diamond engagement ring on it. Looking up, Gabriella felt her smile grow as she took in the petite, brown haired girl seated on a bar stool. Kelsi Nielsen was the smallest firefighter Gabriella had ever encountered and it made her grin. Next was Kelsi's fiancé, Jason Cross, another firefighter who saluted her from across the room without removing one hand from his pocket. Turning to face the people seated on the other side of the room, Gabriella felt instantly drawn to the energy radiating from the bouncing blonde girl with her hair tied up in a ponytail that left her seat to greet her. Sharpay Evans, Ryan's sister as Gabriella quickly found out, was a field-trained nurse who occasionally helped out when the firehouse was short handed. Gabriella felt a pang in her chest that she quickly pushed aside when the other girl smiled at her brightly, the bombarding similarities between Sharpay and the face that never left Gabriella's mind causing her to inhale sharply before turning to meet her new partner.

Chad Danforth was not what she had been expecting. The bushy, curling afro gave him a mischievous look that she figured would normally have been in place instead of the even, steady gaze that he flicked over her. After taking in his muscled build and perfectly fitted medics' uniform, Gabriella locked her eyes on his as they bore into her, searching for something. Whatever he found, it caused him to keep his mouth shut and give her a brief nod before the guy beside him cleared his throat and stepped forward. Her attention snapped to the left and suddenly air no longer existed in the room.

"Troy Bolton," he told her, extending a hand which she hesitantly took as she noted the fire symbol on his right shoulder, the icy feeling of his grip sending sparks across her palm. "Ignore Chad; he's just in shock that you're hot."

She jerked her hand away instantly, and wrapped her fingers around the strap of her bag as she narrowed her gaze at him. His eyes were a piercing blue that lost some of their amusement as he registered her reaction. It wasn't guarded, but he tensed as he picked up on her discomfort. Curiously, he let his gaze roam over her before returning to her face. The Chief said something and she saw Chad nod and heard herself respond, but her eyes never left Troy's face until Chad pushed himself away from the counter and approached her, blocking her view of the sandy-haired firefighter.

"Have you seen the bay yet?" Chad asked simply, watching as she focused her gaze on him and nodded. "You can help me re-stock the buses until a call comes in."

"Sure," she responded, turning to follow him out the door. He paused in the entrance and called into the next room where some of the others had gathered after the introductions.

"I'm taking the new kid to re-stock," Chad informed the room and Zeke briefly looked towards the door before turning back to the screen. Chad turned to resume his walk, only to meet the storming eyes of Gabriella. "What?"

"I will not be called New Kid," she snapped, spinning away to go in the direction of the supply closets.

"All rookies are called New Kid, get used to it," he informed her.

"I got used to it for two years in California," she retorted, hoisting her bag higher on her shoulder and crossing her arms. "I left behind the rookie title a long time ago."

"You're from California?" he asked, surprised at this new information.

Her eyes widened at the slip in information and her jaw clamped shut. When Chad realized he wasn't going to get anything else out of her, he led the way to the back of the garage. They passed Troy who was checking equipment with Kelsi in the compartments along the side of the pumper truck and Gabriella tried not to flinch as she felt his gaze fall and linger on her. Following Chad's directions, she tossed her bag into an empty locker before handing him her kit bag to inspect. He seemed satisfied with her gear, although he shot her a questioning look about some of her supplies.

"Chief mentioned you had unorthodox training," Chad mentioned as he handed it back to her and climbed into the back of the ambulance with a clipboard.

"I took the same training as you did," she replied simply, taking a second clipboard from him and noting the levels of oxygen in the numerous canisters and replacing the tubing from a box he slid beside her.

"But he mentioned-," Chad stopped at the look in her eyes.

"It doesn't matter," she told him darkly, turning to check the battery charge on the defibulator.

Watching her, Chad realized there was much more to Gabriella than one could pin on a regular rookie. She moved through the list with calculation and precision. It was practiced and he realized she hadn't been lying about experience. He wondered then, what Chief had meant when he said she wasn't the typical paramedic. Shrugging his broad shoulders, Chad resumed his count of saline solution bags while Gabriella exchanged the radio batteries for fresh ones. Hoping that the Chief and Troy were right to urge him to give her a chance, Chad pushed his questions away and continued down his list. In the back of his mind though, he wondered what sort of paramedic carried suture kits in their gear bags.

* * *

_AN: Thanks for the interest and early reviews. So far, the chapters have been quite a bit shorter than TDOUs, but they will fluctuate depending on scenes and whatnot._

_~Van_


	4. Chapter Three

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Three**

"_**When a heart is on **__**fire**__**, sparks always fly out of the mouth.**__**"- Proverb**_

* * *

_The smell of blood was overwhelming. Supernatural beings in movies or on TV always claimed that humans couldn't smell blood, but she could tell the screenwriters differently. It smelled of copper and fear and death. It wafted through the dry air and clung to everything. The flies had settled in some places and she held a hand to her mouth to keep the nausea at bay. It would do no good to lose control now. It was too late for panic and too soon to mourn. They had a task to do and she was determined to do it. _

_Beside her, his black and wiry hair cropped short, his mocha skin pale despite the sun, a colleague closed his eyes and muttered a prayer in Arabic. The smaller woman in front of them, still trying to digest the scene, clung to the rosary beads around her neck and mouthed the words to the Lord's Prayer in Latin and French. The blood pooled in the parched earth and tents, support poles missing or broken, hung limply as the breezes stilled and the moments ticked by. _

_In her head, she could hear the screams as she slowly and silently creeped through the empty camp. Pots and abandoned items lay scattered in the spaces between tents and huts. Here and there, dried and flaking blood showed what had been picked up and used as a weapon. Empty shell casings marked the ground and their targets. She rubbed a finger over a nick in a wooden post that had been the medical cabin, where a bullet had grazed the wood before moving along its targeted path. _

_Crouching down, she hesitated as her fingers brushed against the black plastic and metal of an Olympus SLR camera. Top of the line, its use showing where the numbers and indicators on the dials had been worn away in places by fingers. A scratch down the back showed what had happened the first time she attempted to use it. Gingerly picking it up to cradle in her hand, she felt the tears prick her eyes. The camera was the heart and soul of its owner. It had taken scenic landscapes of the American Mid-West, weddings of friends, graduations of siblings, and the Eiffel Tower. There had been disks filled with cathedrals and castles from Europe and palaces from Asia. Clicking it on, she noted with bittersweet relief that the memory card remained undamaged. Images of little African children playing soccer among the huts and little girls with headscarfs helping their mothers do laundry flashed before her. Her own face smiled back at the lens in one, her arm poised to deliver vaccinations to the line of children outside the very tent she stood in now. _

_Clutching it close, she surveyed the rest of the room. They had raided it for supplies and drugs, she knew. It happened every time. She doubted they had found anything but she headed to the back anyway to check the most secure area they had managed. A body was in her way as she passed between curtains that were used as doors, the limbs splayed out as they had fallen. She wondered what they had wanted to protect but she refused to look them in the face. Too many times was her heart dealt a blow and the one she knew was coming would send knives through her soul. She didn't want to be the one to find her. She wanted it to be done softly and gently, by someone else. She didn't want to know the details, just the answer. _

_Her foot slipped in blood as she turned, but she caught herself before walking back out the door where someone was calling her name....._

"Montez?! You with me here?" Chad asked from outside her passenger window in the ambulance. "This is called a car accident and the people with the blood and the broken bones? They require our help."

Gabriella blinked and jerked herself back to reality at the sound of Chad's harsh and annoyed voice. Steadying her nerves, she grabbed her kit bag from beside her and pushed the door open. Her first call of the day and she was acting like the naive rookie Danforth had labelled her at the house. She hadn't expected to be bombarded by memories during regular calls like an accident. Surveying the scene, she chose to categorize and plan instead of dwelling on her mind's inconvenient way of bringing up the past. The intersection was in front of the mall in the Eastern quadrant of the city and Gabriella could see at least three cars in various shape of destruction. Police cars had their lights flashing as they handled the crowd and wrote down points of information. Zeke and Ryan were already working, having been in the area on another call and arriving ahead of them. Glancing behind her as she followed Chad, she noted that one of the firetrucks had followed them from the house.

"Wait here with Baylor and follow his directions while I find out what's going on," Chad demanded in a clipped tone to which she could only nod. She watched him approach an officer before crouching down beside Zeke.

"Don't let his attitude get to you," Zeke told her gently, checking the blood pressure of a woman with a broken arm. "He's just not used to having a partner with less experience than him. He feels like any of you screwups will be on his ass. He just needs to get to know you."

"Look, I'm not a rookie," Gabriella said sternly, writing down vitals without waiting for him to call them out, being able to read the notations on the blood pressure cuff and the electronic readout. "I've done this before. It's just been awhile since I've been assigned to an actual house."

"Chad mentioned California. I have a sister who works at the emergency department in one of the LA hospitals, were you in that-," he didn't get a chance to answer as his clipboard was shoved back at him and she stood abruptly, not wanting to know that they had a connection. That he could do some digging and reveal everything.

"It was a couple of years ago. It's been awhile," she replied hastily, scanning for Chad among the crowd and sighing with relief when he beckoned her towards a red Volkswagen Rabbit that had spun out of the intersection upon impact. "Danforth needs me."

Zeke watched, surprised at her tone, as she hurried between two cars to where Chad waited beside a third, the stretcher from their ambulance resting behind him. Meeting Ryan's gaze for a moment, the blond medic shrugged while he continued to talk calmly to a woman with a bloody scrap down her face. Focusing on his patient, Zeke tried to remember how the LA districts were divided for the paramedics. She hadn't denied being in LA, so he had to assume she had worked in the city somewhere. He didn't understand her unwillingness to talk about it. LA was a big city with a high number of medics and required a lot of training. It seemed odd to him that someone facing the discrimination of being the New Kid would let their experience slide under the radar of their new colleagues. Perhaps she was just modest, or shy, he told himself, but something told him there was more to it than that.

* * *

Chad was confused by Gabriella Montez. She was quiet, but not shy. She was steady and quick and apparently experienced, but in the three hours he had known her, he had become used to the look that occasionally graced her face. It wasn't surprise or shock or nervousness like other new paramedics had, but it was almost as if something kept catching her off guard. Like when you run into an ex-girlfriend in the one place you had thought was safe from her. It would pass after a moment, usually without him yelling her name, but it still had him wondering what went on in her head.

He watched her as they stood aside, waiting for the Troy and Jason to cut away the crumpled door of the car to allow them access to the trapped victim inside, trying to decide how much he really wanted to know. She didn't seem to be the type to willingly let anyone into her life, but she had revealed nothing other than the slip about California. Not even if she had a pet goldfish or liked his taste in music that played in the ambulance. Hearing Troy yell that they could go ahead, he motioned for her to approach from the other side of the car.

"We're going to need to put a c-collar on him to stabilize his neck. He said his head hit the steering wheel pretty hard so it's just a precaution, but what we can do is-," Chad was interrupted by the rough shake of her head.

"You can't do in that position," she informed him. "Not unless you want to move him and then put it on. We'll have to wait until he's out and put it on once he's boarded on the stretcher."

"I know that would be the best thing, but this is safer. If we move him now and your hands slip," he swallowed at the angry look she shot him.

"My hands won't slip," she ground out, getting into position. "Just do it."

"He's going to be hard to-"

"Just do it, please, before our shift ends and we're still out here." Her face was hard as his grew stony at being reprimanded although he knew if it was anyone else, he would have trusted their abilities outright.

"Fine. On my count. One, two, three." Chad lifted and Gabriella's hands remained secure around the victim's neck and shoulders. She didn't release him until Chad had him securely strapped on the stretcher and the neck brace in place. "Good job," he told her, trying to smooth over his earlier assumptions.

"All I ask is that you trust I won't kill anyone," she replied quietly, helping place the stretcher in the back before climbing inside the back of the ambulance.

Chad nodded in understanding before slamming the back of the ambulance doors shut and climbing up front. Behind them, the fire department and the police began organizing tow trucks and crews to clear the debris from the road. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he watched as Gabriella recorded vitals and adjusted oxygen and IV flows. She had proven herself back there, whether she knew it or not, or even cared, but she had. Despite it though, Chad felt that no matter how much trust he placed in her, it would take her much longer to trust him with anything about her life.

Her hands had never slipped. He hated to admit it, but his hands probably would have. She had climbed over two seats to make sure their patient never moved while her hands acted as support, and not once did the victim shift. That was impressive and required practice. He was curious to know what would prompt the need to be perfect at it, but again, it was something he knew better than to ask. She was a closed book to him, for whatever reason.

* * *

Troy let out a groan as he entered the kitchen at the firehouse where Chad sat staring at a cup of coffee. He and the crew had just come from their fourth fire call of the day and he hated the idea of living through another two days of his remaining shift before getting a day off. He could hear the TV in the next room and the sound of water running upstairs. Collapsing onto a stool, he ran both hands up and down his face, feeling the smoke and soot dig into his pores. Chad eyed him and Troy saw that he looked just as exhausted.

"How many runs did you two do after the accident on Chestnut?" Troy asked, getting up to rummage in the fridge for a bottle of water.

"Six, I think. I don't think we stopped after that. We only have a half hour left so I'm hoping they won't send us out anymore. Miler and Jameson are already here for the night shift," Chad told him, staring into space for a moment.

"And you survived your day with Montez?" he asked, noticing the slight frown that creased the outer corners of Chad's lips. "You didn't kill her, did you?"

"No," he snapped, before looking at his friend. "You haven't talked to her, have you?"

"Not really," Troy said with a shrug. "Just those couple of minutes before the call came in where I was asking her if she was from around here. Why?"

"Just curious. She's just seems so.....distant, I guess would be the word. Half the time, I'm not even sure if she's paying attention and then she snaps into it and gets the job done. I thought maybe it was me because I was so crabby this morning but Zeke mentioned it too. What did she tell you earlier?" Chad looked unsettled as Troy tried to recall the conversation that he hadn't really been paying attention to but realized now may have been important.

"That she wasn't from New Mexico but had some connections here for a job and took the opportunity," Troy looked down at his bottle as he heard the shower upstairs stop running. "Nothing big."

"Nothing with her ever seems to be. Chief won't even tell me," he said, admitting that he had asked for more information after hearing she wasn't a recent recruit to the program. "Said she'll tell people if she wants to but it would be better to leave it alone. What does that mean?"

"Sounds like your partner has some demons in her past." Troy left Chad to mull over his answer as he headed upstairs to use the shower.

Passing the girls' bunkroom on his left, he paused to watch as Gabriella flipped through a book in her lap. Her back was to him, but something caught her attention because she turned to see his figure in the doorway. Her eyes widened in surprise and Troy recalled that he never once saw her look surprised at the scene of the accident. Like the injuries and the victims were an everyday occurrence. That was a learned response and he realized Chad was right to guess that her past mattered in how she acted now. Giving her an awkward smile at being caught, he ran a hand through his hair.

"I just wanted to say that I hoped your first day went well," he said as she relaxed slightly from the stiff position she had jerked into a moment before.

"It did, thanks," she said softly.

"Anytime."

He left her to continue what she had been doing, but Chad's comments lingered in the back of his mind as he stepped into the shower. His first impression of her had been that she was gorgeous. It went deeper than her looks though. There was something about her that called to him. It was challenge to remain polite, to see that she was new and not to bombard her with questions and jokes. He wasn't used to holding back, but he knew with Gabriella, there was no other choice. He didn't want to see her shut down like she had when he introduced himself.

She was a mystery and Troy wondered if she knew how mysteries and secrets never remained hidden for long in a place where everyone lived on top of each other.

* * *

_AN: Don't forget to check out intothelines at livejournal for the 1st round of HSM fanfic awards. Nominations are occuring now._

_Van_


	5. Chapter Four

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Four**

"_**What one wants is unrestrained passion, **__**fire**__** for **__**fire**__**.**__**"-Henry Miller**_

* * *

Troy hauled a shirt on over his head as he descended the staircase to the garage the next morning. It had been a quiet night with the exception of a car accident just off the interstate and the handful of medical calls that the night teams of paramedics had responded to. Running his fingers through his hair to shake out the strands after a night of sleep, he yawned as he reached the entrance to the kitchen and paused.

Gabriella sat on a stool, hunched over the morning paper. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in relaxed waves and Troy's eyes travelled its length until they returned back to her face. She hadn't noticed him as she absently pulled on the string to her teabag, hauling it in and out of the cup as the steam wafted upwards. Her lashes fluttered as her eyes scanned the page, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Troy stepped into the kitchen and the sound of his work boots on the linoleum startled her.

"Um, morning," she stumbled, awkwardly trying to push the paper out of the way as he skirted around the small island counter to retrieve the coffee pot from beside the stove.

"Morning," he answered with an easy smile, retrieving his mug from the cupboard and filling it to the brim from the fresh brewed pot. Setting it aside, he leaned against the countertop and gripped the mug with both hands. "You're here early."

"I guess," she shrugged, flicking her eyes to the clock that read 6:30am before meeting his startling blue ones again. "I was awake and I figured it would be just as well to read the paper here than do it at home."

"Makes sense," Troy responded, taking another sip of coffee, "But I wouldn't expect Chad here for another half hour. "

She nodded, returning her attention to the paper again. Troy rummaged around the cupboards again for cereal and a bowl, pouring the milk from the carton in the fridge. Glancing towards the large print calendar hanging on the bulletin board behind Gabriella's head, he saw that it was Zeke and Ryan's week to do the grocery shopping. He looked back at Gabriella as Kelsi entered the small room, her hair lazily thrown in a ponytail and rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Good morning," she sang, pulling another mug from the cabinet and filling it from the coffee pot before collapsing on a stool across from Gabriella. "Are you reading the entertainment section?" she asked, and Gabriella gave her a small shake of her head and a smile before sliding it across the countertop.

"Troy, did you want a section?" Gabriella suddenly asked, and Troy realized he had been staring. "Sports or local?" she asked when he nodded, releasing the sports section when his hand reached for it.

"So, Ella, how was your first day with Chad? Did he relax at all?" Kelsi inquired, never looking up from the words on the page as she scanned the theatre listings.

Troy, though, saw Gabriella's reaction to the nickname, the latter question being ignored as the shock rocked her body. Her muscles tensed and the fingers gripping the page on world events went white at the knuckles. The mug of tea stopped halfway to her mouth, being set down again without being touched. He saw how her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment before opening to stare blankly into the space in front of her. His mouth pulled into a frown and he looked to the other firefighter to pull the attention away from the stretching silence.

"Kels, do you think you can do the grocery list for Zeke and Ryan before their day off?" Troy inquired, hoping she wouldn't notice that he was purposely deterring her from getting an answer to her question. He continued to watch Gabriella from the corner of his eye as Kelsi slid her gaze to the calendar and back again.

"Sure, I can do it when we get a-," she was cut off by the buzzing alarms and the voice of the city dispatcher giving the address over the PA speakers in the house, "-minute."

Sighing, Troy dumped out his coffee in the sink along with Kelsi and hurried towards the bay and trucks. Pausing at the doorway, he turned to see that Gabriella had yet to budge. Hearing the announcement again, he poked his head out to see that the night shift guys were piling into their ambulances as Zeke entered the garage from the parking lot in the back. Chad followed a few steps behind. Sighing, Troy left the kitchen behind to pull on his gear while relaying the call to Chad.

"The night guys are doing this run and we'll do whatever comes up after it," Chad told him and Ryan as the final day-shift paramedic arrived. "I think we're still waiting on Montez, anyway."

"She's in the kitchen," Troy said, shaking his head and pulling his jacket on over his coveralls and boots. Grabbing his helmet from his locker, he slammed the door shut. "You may want to give her a minute though. I think Kelsi hit a nerve and didn't notice, but then we got the call so I don't know what it was all about."

"Nielsen hit a nerve? How?" Chad asked, perplexed.

"She called her Ella," Troy said as Jason yelled for him to hurry up. "She asked her a question and it slipped, I guess, but your partner just froze like someone dumped ice down her back."

"Damn it," Chad answered, turning away from the roaring fire trucks and ambulances to head for the kitchen while wondering how a nickname from a stranger could cause such drastic responses.

* * *

Gabriella continued to stare at the blurry front page of the morning paper as Troy and Kelsi responded to the alarms. The tears burned hot as she tried to make them disappear and her fingers had gone numb as all her blood drained to her toes. No one had called her Ella since...

_The flaps of the tent were pulled open to allow a view inside where cable wires and cords wound and twisted around the makeshift desktop and along the ground. They disappeared outside and connected to one of the precious generators that powered the only satellite access they had been able to get. The laptop sat propped up on the desk, its screen brightly lit by the collage of black and white photographs being edited for the American and international newspapers waiting to publish them. The photographer credited with the images turned, her full cheeks grinning as she glimpsed Gabriella in the doorway, letting her fingers tap the mouse as she cropped and highlighted and sharpened her proof of the horrors taking place. "Ella, they're going to the Times", Gabriella heard in her mind, the voice as clear as if she was standing there again, "The New York Times is putting them on the third page and all they need isat least one picture of the soldiers."......._

Gabriella slammed the door shut on the memory, her fingers uncurling from the newsprint and reaching up to scrub at her face. She had thought that she was ready to rejoin the world and do what she did best. She had thought it would help to be out there and actively working, instead of in the apartment dwelling on the silence and emptiness, but it seemed that each day was just as hard to leave it behind. Everywhere she went there was something so minuscule that it shouldn't have mattered. Frustrated with herself, Gabriella abruptly folded the paper and left it on the counter before dumping the cold and untouched tea down the sink just as footsteps sounded behind her.

"Troy said you were here early," Chad commented lightly, and Gabriella eyed his casual demeanour while wondering what else Troy had said.

"Early riser," she replied, watching as he examined the calendar she had noticed Troy looking at earlier. "What's with the abbreviations?" she asked, moving to stand beside him.

"This is our schedule so we can keep track of who is on which shift in advance so we can plan things like grocery shopping and cooking and laundry. Each week, we pair up-or rather the fire guys pair up and we stay the same-and take on a task. This week is Zeke and Ryan's turn to grocery shop and Troy and Jason will cook. You and I get to order any supplies needed and Kelsi and the rest of the guys will fight over who has to do laundry and vacuum and clean the rec room." Chad's finger pointed out the various code forms of the tasks as he spoke, his voice relaxed and teasing. "The names in red mean those are the paramedics on the day shift, and the blue is for those on the night shift. The fire guys just put their initials for the days they are on."

"So, Troy and Kelsi are on tomorrow but off the next two days, and Jason goes off tomorrow and comes back the day before they do," Gabriella mused, making sure she understood.

"Yeah," Chad said, nodding as he scanned the next two weeks. "And you and I are on for the next four days, off for two, and then on the night shift for another five."

"How come Zeke and Ryan aren't on night shifts?" Gabriella asked, noticing that although the other two paramedics worked more days than she and Chad, they didn't seem to have any stretches in the evenings.

"Zeke does fill in shifts when needed, but Ryan is taking night classes at U of A, so Chief works around him," Chad explained. "You'll like the night shifts. It's usually slow, but the calls that do come in are typically high adrenaline and interesting."

Gabriella didn't get the chance to answer, as the alarms went off and their unit was called to respond to a medical emergency at East High. Pulling on her jacket as she followed Chad to the ambulance, she tried not to think of the night shifts that loomed in her future. Her sleeping habits were not something she wanted all of East House to be made aware of. Pushing it away to the far reaches of her brain, she climbed into the ambulance as Chad turned on the sirens and steered out of the garage.

* * *

Troy looked up from the saucepan where he was diligently stirring to prevent it from burning, to see Chad follow Zeke into the kitchen. Beside him, Jason and Kelsi were slicing vegetables while occasionally checking the noodles that bubbled on the back burner. The table had already been set and the garlic bread was in the oven. Turning the burner down to let the sauce simmer, Troy reached into the fridge to retrieve the salad that Jason had tossed together earlier in the day between fire calls and two car accidents. Placing it on the table, Troy called into the rec room to tell everyone else that the meal was ready. Handing plates to Chad, he listened lazily until he caught Gabriella's name.

"She didn't," Zeke spit out, laughing just as the person in question entered the room. "I wish I would have been there to see that."

"I should have taped it," Chad admitted, pausing to look into thin air for a moment before heaping his plate with Caesar salad.

"What did we miss?" Ryan asked, breezing into the kitchen and motioning for Gabriella to help herself to whatever was placed in front of her.

"Montez, here, telling one of our patients off," Chad quipped and Troy saw how her cheeks flushed pink.

"It wasn't like that-," she started but Chad waved her off with his hand as he continued.

"Seriously, this woman is like ninety years old and her granddaughter had called it in because she was having difficulty breathing, but she keeps insisting that we don't need to take her to the hospital. I can barely understand her because the moment she sees Montez's last name, she refuses to speak English and keeps jabbering away in Spanish. Her daughter keeps telling her in English that we are not kidnapping her and that we are there to help but I'm pretty sure the old coot was convinced we were going to throw her down the apartment steps." Chad paused for a moment as Troy placed the remaining portions of the meal in the center of the table. "Anyway, partway down the seventh set of stairs because the building doesn't have an elevator, the woman is so loud and distracting that Gabriella starts spouting off to her."

"I just asked her to let us get down the steps before we dropped her," Gabriella added quietly, accepting the bowl of spaghetti noodles that Ryan passed her. "I mean, she was shaking the stretcher and everything."

"Well, I don't know what got said, but she definitely shut up after that. It was hilarious," Chad finished, tucking into his pasta after sprinkling it heavily with parmesan cheese.

Troy shot Gabriella a grin over his plate of pasta as the others continued to help themselves and catch up on the events of the day. She gave him a small, embarrassed smile in return and he winked. She may have some things racing through her head that she refused to share, but it was good to see how she and Chad were falling into a routine. Troy felt the innate urge to draw her into their close group and get rid of the barrier that made her an outsider. Scooping up another mouthful of dinner, Troy listened as she quietly answered questions about calls or runs that she and Chad had done that day. Whether she was ready for it or not, Troy knew Gabriella was going to have a hard time remaining detached from the people of East House.


	6. Chapter Five

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Five**

"_**When soldiers have been baptized in the **__**fire**__** of a battle-field, they have all one rank in my eyes.**__**" Napoleon Bonaparte**_

* * *

_The buildings sprang up from the concrete, their sharp angles and dull grey exteriors reflecting sunlight off the metal bars that graced the windows of several floors and the gated yards that marked boundaries to children. Sparse trees, with their dull foliage and limp limbs, dotted the streets that were lined with a mix of automobiles. Older models that should have been retired in the previous decade were end to end with sparkling newer editions that would have been equally at home outside Rodeo Drive boutiques. _

_Vin Diesel look a-likes, with their shaven heads and muscled bodies, roamed the streets in pacts. Those that were alone were the ones to be truly aware of. Tattoos in bold, stark ink marked loyalties and alliances while matching symbols, painted with dedication, stained buildings and businesses. Territories were marked and boundaries drawn; the opposition to their insinuated laws and rules met with steel and iron. Boys no older than fifteen lounged against apartments, even mid-day during the week, their accessories flashing in the sun and their pockets loaded down with concealed weapons and tiny plastic bags. Girls, having passed into puberty without a glance backwards, sported skirts that could double as postage stamps and tops that had been bought at the lingerie store instead of fashion boutiques. Childhoods were abandoned and adulthood ended just as early. _

_Gazing out the window of the ambulance as it flew through the streets of LA with its sirens blaring, she watched as mothers ushered young children indoors as dark set in, intent on locking their doors securely and praying that their boyfriends and older children returned by sunrise. A quick turn onto a side road, and she could see the gathering crowd as it surrounded the victim of the hour. A boy old enough to be in high school, if he did in fact still attend, lay sprawled on the ground with his hands clutching the spreading red patch on his lower abdomen. His teeth were clenched to hold back a scream of pain and the onlookers yelled and argued as police officers ordered them behind a makeshift barrier. _

_Looking into his eyes, she saw the same thing she saw every day. Defiance. Rebellion. Determination. Fear. Mortality. If he lived, he would find himself in the same position within the month; maybe the year if he was lucky. If he died, he would join the hundreds like him she had seen during her own childhood and career. Another casualty of a war that held no purpose except to provide a way to live and survive. The double edged sword that could lengthen your life but lead you to the same end either way. She had lost friends to it when she was young and on the edge, flirting with choices until she made the one that led her to the same streets she had thought to escape when she was still idealistic. Staring into the faces of the boy in front of her, his blood soaking the pavement of the sidewalk and his breath coming in pained gasps, she tried not to think of where she would have fit if her choice had been different. Would she-_

_But suddenly, the image changes. Shifts. Blurs. The boy's skin darkens to dark chocolate and his limbs become thinner. His eyes lose the hard edge of a drug runner and become vulnerable as her hands press to his exposed chest and the pulsing gunshot wound, the bullet having come from a machine gun bought via international arms trades instead of a handgun stolen from behind the counter of a convenience store. He is a statistic in a war he has no voice in; a victim in every sense of the word. His blood soaks the sandy ground beneath her sandals and she knows that her minimal supplies will never be enough to transfer him twenty miles to the nearest operating table. _

_She's not in LA anymore, as the scrubby plants of the plateau grow at a stunted pace around her. She's not home but death still looks the same here as it did there....._

Her eyes flew open, the image replaced by the blinding light that flooded her room. Letting her head fall back on the bed, her curls fanned around her, Gabriella groaned and scrubbed at her face with both hands. It wasn't often that she thought of that kid in Los Angeles, the one who became the catalyst in the decision that would change her life, but when she did it seemed that everything that happened afterwards was twice as harsh and twice as brutal. She had seen his face reflected everywhere for weeks after that day.

Sighing, she flicked her eyes at the alarm clock and determined that returning to sleep would be impossible. After getting dressed and shoving some collected items in her purse, she grabbed the keys to her jeep off the counter and left for the firehouse. The drive was quick without the morning traffic to contend with and she eased her vehicle into a spot in the parking lot with almost an hour to kill before her shift. Throwing her bag over her shoulder and gripping the travel mug of coffee in one hand, she eased open the door to the building without noise and made sure it didn't close with a bang. Glancing around, she noted that one ambulance was gone along with the firetrucks. The garage bay loomed around her, it's size causing her steps to echo and sound hallow as she made her way to the kitchen.

Mugs of coffee and tea lay abandoned across the small eating surface, letting her assume that the call had come just as the crew expected a moment of peace. Dumping their contents into the sink, she rinsed the cups and placed them on the drying rack before emptying the coffee pot and starting a fresh brew. She had never been a coffee person, even in LA, until last year when going days at a time required something more than determination. Just as the first few drops of caffeinated liquid began hammering the glass pot, Gabriella heard the motor of the garage wind the door open and the sound of vehicles entered the bay and lower floor. Voices reached her ears shortly after and she turned to see that the coffee was almost finished to last for a few fresh cups.

Footsteps sounded on the floor as they entered the kitchen, acknowledging Gabriella's presence with a nod or smile. They stank of smoke and cinders, their fire retardant jackets having been shed on the ride back to cause the stark white and black of their t-shirt to contrast against the stained and well-used coveralls. Troy shot her a tired smile as he fetched his mug from the stand beside the sink and took the coffee pot that Jimmie offered. His hair, dark with sweat in some places, stuck out where his fingers had run through it and a line of soot could be seen under his jaw as he tipped the cup to his lips. She noted the tired shadows under his striking blue eyes and remembered that this was his third day in a row on duty. He would be off tomorrow and the next day, returning on her first day off. Returning his smile, she turned her attention to the paper but didn't finish the article in front of her.

"Another early morning?" Troy asked, taking the stool beside her as the others took turns claiming the shower. Telling the guys to just get him when everyone else was finished, he eased the sports section out of the pile in front of Gabriella as she watched with a slight smirk. "Or just couldn't wait to see me?"

"Definitely that one," she responded in a moment of spontaneous humour that caught him off guard. A grin curled the edges of his lips as he saw the glint in her eye. He had known it was there, brewing under the surface, just by watching the way she handled Chad's biting comments with those of her own on their first day and the way she conversed with Jason with a slightly sceptical look. "Or you know, I thought it was desperately urgent to ensure you could read about Shaq or Crosby or whoever it is that you dedicate your shrine too on your off time."

"Lebron, Montez. We worship Lebron," Troy told her, his eyes wide and his tone deadpan. "And we do not mock his talent or his skill. Ever."

"Noted," she drawled, her eyebrow arched sarcastically and Troy could guess that she possessed wit in spades.

"I can't believe you referenced hockey," he whispered, fake horror exaggerating his features as he attempted to keep a straight face, "What would possess you?"

She rolled her eyes at his antics as Chad entered the room, dressed in uniform with a tray of coffee in his hands a box of muffins under his arm. The latter he left on the counter for the crew and the coffee tray he set on the table. Gabriella grinned as he handed her the hot, expensive drink from Starbucks, barely pausing before taking the first sip. Gripping his own cup in his hand, he ignored the pointed look that Troy sent him with a smirk.

"This is a nice surprise," Gabriella remarked, letting the aroma waft up her nose as she inhaled deeply. "What inspired this side trip?"

"I just had this feeling that it would be a slow morning and we should relax and enjoy it with-," he was cut off by the sirens wailing from the speakers above their heads. Chad growled as Troy laughed, listening as the dispatcher called for the paramedics. "-Fuck!"

"Come on, partner," Gabriella told him soothingly, one hand on his back as she guided Chad out of the kitchen towards their ambulance. "Time to work."

"Whatever," he grumbled as he climbed inside the cab of the vehicle and turned on the ignition as the garage door opened.

The siren sounded as they exited the garage, sounding their way through East Albuquerque.

* * *

Troy leapt from the back of the ladder truck as it screeched to the curb beside a fire hydrant and a crowd of people. Chad and Gabriella's ambulance was already there, along with Zeke and Ryan's, and Troy tore his eyes from searching for her as he listened for the chief to yell orders. The warehouse shed that sat between two office buildings, rising several floors above the street, was leaking thick black smoke from the windows placed high on the walls. The flames that reached out the windows nearer the ground licked at the brick exterior, blending with the red sky of dawn. The neighbouring buildings had been evacuated but the people were arguing with the police as they tried to direct them across the street for statements and information.

His helmet was already buckled and the visor pushed up as he grabbed an axe, ignoring the chief as Gabriella approached him through the throng of gawkers. He hadn't seen her since first thing that morning after her and Chad had been called out, his own crew getting a few hours rest while the paramedics did run after run. He estimated that she had only been on this particular scene less than fifteen minutes and she already had soot coating her cheek and hands as she stripped off her rubber gloves. Her face was serious, no hint of the laughter from earlier, as she reached him and caught the end of the chief's speech.

"Witnesses that made it out say that a fuel company was refilling the oil tank out back for the furnace. The driver said that he splashed some on the pavement when he was connecting the hose, but he doesn't know what sparked it. He was in the back turning it on when he saw it ignite. Someone from inside said that people tended to smoke back there, so maybe that's your starter," she suggested, hearing her radio buzz from its place at her hip.

"So there are people inside?" Troy asked, pulling down his visor and adjusting his gloves before shouldering the axe as she nodded.

"Last head count based on eye witnesses says there are four missing, but the tank itself exploded and that entire part of the wall is gone so we don't know if they are under there or someone else in the building. It's a furniture warehouse so the flames are ripping through everything pretty fast," Gabriella told him, sweat beads on her forehead from their close proximity to the flames.

"Okay, good job, Montez," the chief told her, "Where are Danforth and the other team?"

"Zeke and Ryan have a couple of people with smoke inhalation that they are getting ready to transfer to Albuquerque General, and Chad is with a guy that a bystander hauled out before we got here. He's got minor burns and a facial laceration but other than that, he's okay and we'll wait for another unit to get here before leaving." Gabriella led the chief to the back of the building where the other paramedics attended their patients, letting her gaze slide to Troy before he and Kelsi left with their group to enter the building through the main entrance.

"The West House is only a few blocks from here, just outside our district," the chief told her, "They're sending us an extra medic unit and a fire crew."

She nodded before reaching Chad and crouching down to help, glancing behind her at the sound of breaking glass and snapping, crackling flames that had reached the roof.

* * *

The walls of the warehouse thrust upwards around the fire crew, disappearing into a cloud of thick smoke and blackening debris as the heat intensified just inside the front door that Troy had pushed open with his shoulder. Kelsi's muffled voice called to him, indicating that she had found a clear way to the back where the wall had blown in. Behind them both, two more members of the crew carried the hose that was connected to the fire hydrant outside and manned by Jimmie.

Boxes and pieces of furniture burned around them, fuelling the fire with their varnish and paint. Troy squinted through the haze as he let Kelsi take the lead, checking doors and open cubicles as they went, until they reached the back where the smoke was being sucked through the gaping hole. He could make out the open space of the back parking lot and the weird flashing lights from the ambulance marked with the West District emblem, but Gabriella and the others were clouded from view behind the smoke and ash that filled the air.

"The building is unstable," Kelsi called as she moved a cinder block from her way and noticed how the bricks remaining in the wall shifted and groaned. "Make sure we don't move anything that could potentially be holding the wall up."

"Keep an eye on the ceiling," Troy added, glancing up to see that the fire had breached that particular barrier and was being fed further by the open air. "We've got ten minutes, max, and then we need to get out of here. We'll extinguish it from the outside."

Moving quickly, the four East firefighters moved bricks and debris from their way, searching through the rubble of the wall to find anyone trapped beneath. Hot beneath his gear and oxygen tank, Troy listened to the hiss of his breath as he sucked in fresh air from the mouthpiece. A flicker of movement through the thickening smoke caught his attention and he saw Kelsi and Ben Harris hurriedly pushing aside cement and wood to reach something. He caught a glimpse of blackened skin before Harris obscured his view and a sound overhead forced Troy's attention upwards.

"You got them?" he yelled to Kelsi who had heard the same noise and took it as a warning. She nodded and Troy jerked his hand towards the gap in the wall. "Get them to the medics and tell Chief to haul out anyone else inside. That roof is not holding!"

The limp body of the discovered worker was thrown over Harris' shoulder as Kelsi shoved obstacles out of the way. Troy followed them out through the gap in the wall, his gaze alternating between the safe zone outside and the tumbling supports from the roof above his head. He heard the chief's call over the radio for another group of firefighters to clear the building and someone radioed back that they had uncovered two more workers. Stepping into the harsh sunlight, he caught the glance that Gabriella scanned them all with before directing her attention to Chad and the worker that Kelsi and Harris had laid on a backboard and stretcher.

"No, stay here," Chad directed Troy as the chief called for his team to grab their hoses and contain the fire from the buildings on either side.

"What do you want me to do?" Troy asked, pulling his gloves and helmet off.

"Just-," Chad cut the man's shirt away with scissors as Gabriella monitored his vital signs and slipped an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, "-Damn, there's blood everywhere. Montez, get down here and see if you can find it while I roll him."

Gabriella didn't say anything in response, simply following his directions as Troy stepped back so they could work. Trained hands searched across bruised and blood skin to find the source of bleeding. Pushing Chad's hands away from her view, she frowned and inhaled sharply as blood welled up around her hands as they tilted the man further.

"Found it," she called, grabbing gauze but seeing quickly that it wasn't going to be enough. "It's deep, Chad," she told him, "He's losing it fast. Troy, there's a black pouch inside my gear bag. Can you grab it from the ambulance."

"I thought you were out of supplies," Chad replied, watching Troy run off without argument. He returned quickly, dropping it beside her and watching as she went through the pockets until she found what she was looking for. "That is a suture kit," Chad said in a surprised tone as he saw what was inside the pouch, "We can't suture arterial bleeders. We can't suture anything."

"You mean you're not trained to suture," Gabriella responded evenly, focusing as she broke the kit open and angled herself to get as much light as possible. "Besides, I'm not suturing; I'm clamping it." Working quickly, she managed to get the clamp in place before packing on gauze and tape. Her hands flew as they performed the familiar task, her eyes ignoring the looks of mixed confusion and awe from onlookers and her unit. "Okay, he's good to go. Let's move it."

"You have explaining to do when we get back to the house," Chad informed her, catching the look in his chief's eye that said not to push it. He wouldn't harass her, but he deserved answers if his partner was going to frequently resort to surgical procedures at accident scenes. Her eyes flicked back to him from where she held the front end of the stretcher, slight panic but also resolution in them.

"Troy went through my bag," she pointed out and looking at him, she saw that her instincts were correct, "I'm sure he can give you answers."

* * *

It was late when Chad and Gabriella returned to the fire house; an extra run having put the end of their shift past its usual cut-off time. Troy watched from the kitchen door as Gabriella quietly gathered her things from her locker and left the building for her jeep in the back parking lot. His eyes followed her, understanding and respect added to his gaze now that he held a tiny key to her secrets. He had stayed after his shift, forgoing the last hour of his official two day break from the schedule, so that he could talk to Chad. His friend stashed his gear away before approaching the kitchen, walking past Troy to the inside of the room before turning and waiting for the explanation that Gabriella had been so certain Troy would give.

"You found something in her bag," Chad said to Troy, running a hand through his hair, "Or at least she seems to think you did."

"You went through her gear on her first day, I'm surprised you didn't find it yourself," Troy replied softly, although he knew most of the house was upstairs sleeping until the next call. Chad shrugged at the mention of his inspection.

"I found the suture kits before," he admitted, "But I never asked about them and that doesn't answer the question of what you found."

Troy dug inside the pockets of his jeans, his fingers gripping the small, rectangular object and bringing it out. Silently, he handed it to Chad who looked at him questioningly before looking down at what he held. It was an ID tag on a red and black lanyard. The card was slightly larger than a drivers' license and as he took in each detail, he realized that she had known what it would tell them. The face on left hand side was clearly Gabriella Montez. Her hair was slightly shorter and her eyes not so haunted and her face set with determination, but it was her. The details beside the picture gave her name and birthdate, it listed her home country as the US and it listed her tell-tale features of brown hair and brown eyes. It listed her profession as a paramedic and gave an emergency contact name as a Hayley McKessie in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

"Flip it over," Troy told him quietly, his hands in his pockets as a confused Chad turned the sturdy plastic card over and almost dropped it.

The back featured a very clear logo that took up the majority of the space. The characteristic red slashes that formed a person were situated above the organization's name. Chad had been right to guess that Gabriella had military training and Troy had been right to guess she had demons in her past. The chief had been right to tell them to leave well enough alone. In the upper corner, once his eyes could be torn away from the name of the organization, Gabriella's ID told Chad that she had joined eighteen months ago.

"Medecins Sans Frontiers," Chad whispered in awe, looking up to see Troy had obviously been just as surprised.

"Doctors Without Borders," Troy answered, "God only knows where she's been with them."

"Do you recognize the name of the emergency contact? They're from here," Chad tried to recall anyone in the medical field with the name and came up empty.

"We went to school with a McKessie, didn't we?" Troy mused, leaning against the counter.

"Yeah, Taylor," Chad said nodding. "I didn't really know her that well, but someone mentioned she went to school in California after graduation."

"You think she and Gabriella know each other?" Troy asked.

"Could, who knows? At least we know how she learned that crazy shit she did today." Chad handed back the ID tag and grabbed his bag from the table. "I guess we'll learn more when she's ready. Enjoy your days off."

"Yeah, you too," Troy replied absently, staring at the card and the answer he held in his hand.

Haiti, Columbia, Iraq, Palestine, The Congo- she could have been anywhere, he thought to himself. Shoving the card back in his pocket, he grabbed his own bags off the floor and walked outside to his truck. Glancing at where her jeep had been parked that morning, Troy found himself wondering what would cause someone to try and hide an entire year of their life from those around them. Shoving the truck into gear, he headed home to sleep and prepare for another set of shifts in a few days. He thought of the things he had to do as he drove, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Gabriella.

* * *

_AN: So this chapter warrants a couple of things. _

_First, a thanks to Rach for reading it through. _

_Second, thanks for everyone who reviewed or PMed and said they had nominated my stories in various categories for the HSM awards hosted through intothelines on LJ. It means alot. _

_Lastly, a quick note on the last portion of the chapter. I chose Medecins Sans Frontiers for a couple of reasons. Its majorly reknowned and I knew most or all of the readers would have some functioning understanding of it. I got the idea for the story when I was going through pictures of my six months in Ghana a couple of years ago and I was also reading Guy Gavriel Kay's **YSABEL**. For those of you who have read it, you'll know the connection. For anyone else, you can just call it a spark of inspiration. I plan to be vague about the organization as a whole for no other reason than I have never actually worked under the organization or know enough about the application process or anything of that nature. If you want to know more, you should check out Stephanie Nolen's **28** or James Maskalyk's **Six Months in Sudan**. Both are Canadian which I realized after putting my notes together. A final note on MSF and this story is that there are a number of organizations doing what Gabriella has done, and MSF is simply one of them, although extremely large. Feel free to ask any questions or let me know f I get something totally wrong. _

_Thanks for the support,_

_~Van_


	7. Chapter Six

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Six**

"_**But you got to be tough when consumed by desire; Because it's not enough just to stand outside the fire." –Garth Brooks.**_

* * *

Gabriella pulled open her locker door and hung her jacket on a hook, pausing when she saw the ID tag swaying gently from the second hook inside. No one in the house actually locked their lockers she had quickly learned. There was no threat of theft, and it meant quicker access in case of an emergency. Her fingers shook as she took the ID tag, taking in all the details for the millionth time. She had known Troy would understand when he saw it, crammed in the outside pocket of her kit with the suture kit she had sent him to find the day before, and she had known he would tell Chad. Beyond the two of them, she had to hope that they would keep the information to themselves.

It hadn't bothered her to find that he had taken it with him after the warehouse fire. She had been slightly surprised, but seeing it replaced in her locker, she had to assume Troy was the type of person to examine every aspect of his evidence. A quick look would not have been enough. It did put her at a slight unease to know that he was a step in the direction of uncovering her past. It wasn't that she was ashamed of it, or regretted it, or thought it made her less of a valuable asset to the team; the past was simply something she had yet to bury completely and it hovered too close to the surface on her bad days for anyone else to understand.

Sighing, she shoved the tag and its lanyard deep into a pocket of the kitbag at her feet and placed the rest of her belongings inside the locker. Slamming the door shut, she spun and gasped. Putting a hand to her chest to slow its beat, she shot Chad an unamused look.

"You could have said something instead of lurking in the shadows," she told him in a voice too low to carry beyond the two of them. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sure it would take more than being startled by me to give you heart attack," he joked lightly, confirming her suspicions that Troy had shared her previous employment record with her partner. Chad's face tensed slightly when he realised she knew what it was that he referenced, and he tugged at a frizzy curl. "He thought of all people, I deserved to know. He was right."

"It's not his decision, but I would have stopped him if I had wished." Gabriella licked her lips and leaned against the locker, pushing her curls away from her face. "I don't advertise my involvement with MSF," she informed him, her eyes boring into his and her voice unemotional when she mentioned the Doctors Without Borders acronym, "And I don't talk about it. Just because you know doesn't mean I'm going to spill everything. You know, so now you can stop second guessing my abilities. I'm damn good at what I do."

"I kind of figured that out on my own," he told her, a glint of softness in his eye. "And your life is yours. Hide whatever you want."

"It's not hiding," she snapped, hating each time a friend or a psychologist made the same suggestion. "It's private. It wasn't rainbows and superheroes and I prefer to forget most of the time I was there."

"Fine. Just one question, though." She reluctantly nodded, assuming he would keep it simple and not delve in deeper than he knew she would allow. "Your emergency contact is from here."

"Chad, I really don't," she gasped, sucking in a breath and looking desperately around for a way to escape what she knew was coming. She prayed for an alarm or an interruption. Anything. It didn't come and Chad continued along his train of thought without noticing her discomfort.

"Are they from the East District?" Chad finished, glancing up to see his partner was as white as a ghost and frantically clenching and unclenching her hands against the lockers. "Gabriella? Gab?"

"I'm, uh, I'm-," Gabriella gulped in air and tried to force her lungs to expand and accept it, "-fine."

"You don't look fine," he challenged, narrowing his eyes to notice the perspiration on her forehead and upper lip and the trembling hands as she pressed them flat against the cool metal behind her. Confused, he saw her lean away and stumble slightly before setting her chin and looking at him.

"I need to grab some stuff from my truck before we get a call."

Watching her leave through the open bay door, Chad realized that not only had she not answered his question, she had flat out ignored it.

* * *

It was well into the morning when Chad announced that instead of heading back to East House to eat and be called out before getting through the front door, they should just stop at the cafe a block from the emergency room parking lot and grab a bite before another call interrupted them. Gabriella agreed, not overly hungry but wanting coffee. Parking the ambulance, she told Chad to go ahead before walking into the Starbucks across the street and ordering from the girl at the counter. Inhaling the aroma, she left the coffeehouse and crossed the street, pausing in front of the display window to a local art and design shop.

In the few months that she had been in Albuquerque, and the times she had visited before that, she had to learn that the store displayed and sold various works of art from all types of artists in the city. Deciding that Chad would still be mulling over which sandwich to buy, she ducked inside on impulse and let the cool air wash over her bare arms.

Wandering past the paintings and sculptures hanging on the walls and on shelves, Gabriella stopped at the wall holding photographs in multiple sizes and with numerous variations of photoshop effects. Some were of local school events, others were of landmarks and popular scenery. There were a couple of New York City and Californian beaches. Gabriella didn't recognize any of the photographers but she felt a sense of familiarity wash over her, nonetheless.

_The dorm room was dark when Gabriella returned from her date. On the floor, a flashlight in hand, her roommate poured over rolls of negatives that had been stripped from her camera. A quick glance towards the door and she flicked on the light, allowing Gabriella to see that the laptop was running and pictures were scattered over the deep red bed spread. _

"_Another assignment?" she asked and the other girl on the bed nodded, her eyebrows scrunched and her mouth tight. "The basketball game from last night?"_

"_Yeah. I'm trying to find something different but every shot looks the same as any sports shot you'd find in the paper." She shuffled through the pictures on the bed and compared one to the strip of film in her hand. _

"_Isn't that the idea? To pick a picture that will sell?" Gabriella commented as she tossed her sweater and purse on the bed and stood next to her friend, peering over her shoulder. _

"_I guess, but I need something fresh and new. I'll be so happy when I graduate and can make my own assignments. One year overseas and one perfect picture and my career will be set," she told Gabriella with longing._

"_You're still leaving after graduation?" _

"_I'm leaving and never looking back. I need an adventure. I need to see the real world. Living here isn't an adventure. Like I said, one perfect picture and I can go home to Albuquerque and land whatever job I want for whatever paper or TV station I want."_

Chad's question had sparked the deep problem with her plan to start over. She was bound to run into people who knew the McKessie family. Albuquerque's East district was tight, as she had been told countless times by her best friend during their years at university. Everyone knew everyone or had a connection to everyone somewhere along the way. Gabriella had known that the predicament with Chad would eventually force information out of her, but she had thought she would be ready for it. She hadn't expected Chad to be so upfront, either.

Sighing, she stepped into the sunlight and went to find her partner.

* * *

Slinging her kit bag over her shoulder, Gabriella waited for Chad to haul the stretcher out of the back of the ambulance and then used one hand to steer it through the automatic doors at the grocery story three blocks from East House. They had one hour left to their shift and Gabriella felt ready to drop. The calls hadn't stopped once all morning and she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. Her stomach grumbled quietly and she flashed a weary but comforting smile at the people surrounding the elderly gentleman seated on the floor.

Crouching down beside him and his wife who fretted and patted his hand as he waved her off, Gabriella unwound her stethoscope from her neck as Chad broke open an oxygen tank. Asking general questions about his name, age and to confirm the details that the dispatcher had given them over the radio, Gabriella was glad to see that he could answer everything clearly and without difficulty.

"Does this happen a lot, Mr. Holtz?" she asked, making a quick note on her clipboard and looking into his face. "The chest pain and shortness of breath?"

"Once in awhile, Dear. I have angina, which I tried to explain to the young man stocking the shelves, but he insisted on calling you anyway," Mr. Holtz explained, buttoning his shirt again and reaching for the cane his wife held.

"And you took your medication as directed and it's subsided completely? Nothing lingering? It didn't take longer than usual or no new symptoms?" Gabriella persisted, making sure to fill everything out perfectly. When he nodded, she sighed and handed him a pen and the clipboard, indicating the blank line she had marked. "Then can I have you sign this saying you refused transportation to the hospital and you gave us permission to end medical treatment?"

"Of course," he told her, scrawling his signature across the page in neat cursive, "I am sorry to have wasted your time but it's good to see everyone being overly cautious, I suppose."

"It's our job, sir, so no need to apologize. Make sure you head to a doctor though if it returns, okay?" she grinned and he smiled back in agreement.

Organizing the completed forms, she slid them into a folder to be handed into the Chief when they returned to the fire house and then proceeded to help Chad pack away the oxygen kit and anything else used during their quick assessment. Wiping down her stethoscope with an alcohol swab, she tossed the soiled supplies in a bio hazard bag just as voice startled her.

"Ella Montez," the deep voice announced, his voice still musical and filled with laughter despite everything. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chad turn away from packing up his gear and watch with curiosity and suspicion. Feeling exhaustion slam into her, she stood and turned in one fluid motion.

"Isaac," she acknowledged, unable to keep the small smile off her face as he crushed her to his chest in a hug. "I didn't know you were in town."

"Quick escape from New York," he informed her, running a hand over his shaven head. His dark eyes danced deep in his dark skinned face and his smile disappeared as he watched her. "You look like crap."

"Thanks," she responded drily, but he could hear the effort to control her voice beneath the disguise of joking. Her face softened as she realized he could see right through her. "You, on the other hand, look pretty damn good."

"It's not the same for me, though," he admitted, rubbing a knuckled fist along her pale cheek and her eyes fluttered shut with the force of controlling her emotions. "Mom says she hasn't seen you in awhile. She knows you're avoiding her."

"It's hard," Gabriella swallowed the lump in her throat, "To see her and know something is missing. She always wants to talk about Tay and the camps and the program, and it's complicated, Isaac. I'd rather not do it."

"She just wants to know you're okay," he reminded her gently, noticing that her partner had remained off to the side but was clearly watching their interactions.

"I'm fine. I started the job last week and it's great. The apartment is great." He shook his head and she sighed. "I'm working on it, okay?"

"I know, but you're not fine."

"Isaac, can we do this another time? Here is not the place to discuss my life or yours," she snapped, reaching down to grab her bag and calling to Chad. "Danforth, you ready to go?"

Chad nodded, crossing the distance of the aisle to join her and let her pile her gear on the unused stretcher. He had caught the majority of the conversation, or at least the body language was able to tell him that she was uncomfortable with the topic but was at ease with the strange guy who looked vaguely familiar. His skin was a few shades darker than Chad's own and his hair was shaved with only a faint outline of stubble. His face was clean shaven and he was fairly built with muscles visible across sturdy shoulders. He wore a suit though, which made Chad even more interested in placing his vague identity and his use of the nickname of 'Ella' hadn't gone unnoticed. Hoping not to give away that he had been trying to eavesdrop, Chad nodded stiffly to her before looking to the guy.

"Yeah, let's head back and clock out. You got the keys?" he asked and she dug in her pocket and threw them. Chad was about to turn away to let her say goodbye, but the guy stopped him.

"Danforth? Chad Danforth? You were co-captain of the East basketball team a couple of years after I graduated. I played with Troy Bolton in my senior year when he cracked the varsity line in his sophomore year." Isaac grinned widely and held out a hand that Chad took hesitantly, noting that Gabriella's gaze was flitting between both men's faces.

"Isaac, I don't think-," she stammered, her hand brushing against her forehead.

"Isaac McKessie," Chad heard him say and he was instantly thrown back to the conversation he had had with Gabriella that morning. "I see you didn't take the basketball path."

"Not really something viable after high school," Chad told him, "It paid for college and then I let it go."

"So you're working with Ella?" Isaac asked unnecessarily. "She's one of the family, you know, so you'd better make sure she's treated right down at the firehouse."

"Isaac," Gabriella pleaded.

"She is," Chad assured him, the questions pouncing around in his brain although he knew it was pointless to expect answers.

"Good. Ella, I'm here until Friday. You should stop by the house or call and we'll come to the apartment." She nodded, not trusting her voice. "Take care."

Watching him leave and continue his shopping, Gabriella let her hands stop shaking before gripping her kit bag tighter and wrapping cold fingers around the metal of the stretcher. She didn't look up at Chad as he silently led them from the grocery store to the ambulance still parked out front. Taking the bags and gear as she handed them to him, Chad loaded the rear of the vehicle before walking around to the front and sliding into the driver's seat as Gabriella joined him from the other door. Looking over at her, he opened his mouth, only to close it when he saw the sparkling tears that she was obviously fighting to keep at bay.

"You can ask," she finally told him as they pulled onto the street to East House.

"I don't need to," he replied, shutting off the engine but not moving from the seat.

"Then you got your answer."

He wanted to tell her there were plenty more.

* * *

_AN: I apologize for how long it has taken me to update. BY&M is my priority at the moment, but I do have most of the next two chapters for this story ready to go so hopefully when things slow down in real life, I will get a chance to tidy them up and post. Enjoy._

_~Van_


	8. Chapter Seven

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Seven**

"_**You are my fire; the one desire," I Want It That Way, Backstreet Boys**_

* * *

_Sunlight glinted off the black steel of the rifle barrel, its magazine of bullets clipped in place and the black skinned finger holding the trigger slippery with sweat. She found it odd that despite how close the muzzle of the weapon was to her temple, she managed to remain calm and think clearly. Her hands shook slightly as she held a soldier's hip still with one hand while the other dug into the wound in his abdomen with a mangled set of tweezers that had been produced by another member of the militant group. The soldier before her, his face pale from blood loss and pain, watched her in silence as he bit his lip to keep from screaming. She felt the tweezers connect with something solid and the soldier cried out before his captain shouted something at him and she saw him force himself into silence one again. _

_As if she was an expert at extracting bullets, she withdrew her tweezers with careful precision and pulled the offending bullet free from the man's abdomen, dropping it in the outstretched hand of the commander. He rolled it between his fingers, oblivious to the blood soaking into the ground around his soldier, before calling something out to one of his men. She shivered, the adrenaline rush of having something to do leaving as the precariousness of her situation crashed around her. To her left, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the two other people who had accompanied her on the road to the next refugee camp before being ambushed and terrorized by the group of militants carrying an injured man. _

_Both were pale skinned, their MSF badges swung around their necks, and kneeling with their hands behind their backs. Noah Cox with his blond hair falling in his eyes as he watched her with concern and Marcus Leitzman with his green eyes flashing at having been subdued, kept still in an effort to placate the soldiers holding their own respective rifles to their heads. She had been the obvious choice to perform medical care. As a woman in a country that gave women no rights, she was seen as the easiest to control, and by pointing a gun at her head the commander of the rebel group could ensure her male friends' cooperation. So, Noah and Marcus followed every direction they were given in an effort to save their own lives and hers. _

_The blood on the ground pooled and spread, reaching her knees in seconds, but the gun remained aimed at her head and she was forced to let it soak into her pants as she stayed kneeling. Angry voices rose higher and a hand clamped on her shoulder, sending her forward before she looked up to see the commander gesturing towards his man and yelling in a dialect she didn't understand past a few rehearsed words. Shaking her head, she pointed to Noah who had given up his silence and was trying to explain to their captives the one sentence she knew by heart. _

"_She doesn't understand you. She's English," he insisted in their tongue, never moving an inch but gaining the soldiers' attention. "You need me to translate."_

_More yelling broke out and she winced as the soldier behind Noah cracked him across the shoulders with the butt of their weapon. Her arm was wrenched in its socket as the commander hauled her up from the dirt to look him square in the face. It was pointless to hide her fear and she fought to keep from crying. His words fell harshly on her ears as she sought to pick out the few words she could follow, quickly losing the train of his demands though and looking desperately in Noah's direction. Marcus had paled considerably, knowing that his lack of English would be of no help. He said something to Noah in French but Noah vehemently shook his head. _

"_Ella, tell them you need supplies. Say the word for hospital," Noah instructed her above the yelling before another blow from the gun sent him reeling unconscious beside Marcus who kept his head from hitting the ground. _

_Terrified, she turned to recite the word to the commander who shook his head at her suggestion. He said something else to her, frustrated when he realized that with her colleague unconscious there was no way to communicate. Annoyed, he motioned to the injured soldier with his gun, prodding her forward until she was kneeling beside him. The commander said something else to her before yelling to his men who obeyed by climbing in their jeep. Another string of words were tossed to her and the commander leaped into his vehicle, leaving her in the middle of the road with her hands coated in blood._

_Looking back to the militant's face, she scrambled backwards as his face was replaced with that of her best friend. Her dark hair, cut in a bob that framed her face, appeared where the soldier's hat had been and his uniform was replaced by light cotton pants and a loose shirt over a tank top that clung to her curves. Blood seeped from the three bullet wounds that spread across her chest and stomach. Her eyes were shut but her face showed the surprise of her death to any onlooker. Looking beyond her to where Noah and Marcus waited, she watched as her mind created a replica of a bullet wound in Noah's skull and blood painted Marcus' hands as if he was trying to save him. Looking around, the deserted road had turned to the remnants of the refugee camp and the roar of engines could still be heard....._

Gabriella entered the fire house on the last day of her shift schedule with a coffee and the paper in hand like every other morning. Dark circles mimicked shadows beneath her eyes and she stuck to the patterns of light painted on the floor as sun poured through the open bay doors and flashed against the bright paint of the vehicles. The shadows lurked on the outskirts and she shivered slightly under her heavy canvas coat as she walked to the empty kitchen. Slumping into her seat, she buried her head in her arms and cursed herself for the interruptions in her sleep and the effects it was having on her system.

Her momentary consideration for napping on the kitchen table ended when visions of her nightmares flashed behind closed lids and she was reminded of how she came to be so exhausted in the first place. Isaac's appearance had done nothing but dredge the worst moments of her memory from the depths of repression and mixed them with so many others that Taylor had died a thousand deaths in a thousand different ways during Gabriella's sleep. She had given up at sunrise and crawled from her bed with her body aching, deciding that East House would offer more solace than a haunted apartment.

Someone entered the room, flicking on the light that Gabriella had neglected, and swore in surprise when they saw the person already seated on a kitchen stool. Gabriella self-consciously pushed her hair away from her face with a chilled hand and offered Chad an awkward smile. Setting the bag of groceries he carried on the counter, he eyed her critically until she forced herself to look away.

"Do you ever sleep?" he finally asked, pulling things from his bags and arranging the purchased bagels on the counter with an assortment of spreads and cheese. "Because it's either you don't sleep or you're just so excited to get to this place each morning that you wake at the crack of dawn and rush here like a kid on Christmas morning. If that's the case, can you please explain it to me because the only other person I know who is ever awake at this time is Troy."

"I know," she answered, missing the look of amusement in Chad's eyes at the small sliver of revealed information. "It was just one of those mornings."

"Do these mornings happen often?" he inquired, hitting the switch to start the coffee brewing and pushing the tab down on the toaster. Gabriella shrugged her shoulders and stared into the depths of her own mug of tea, watching the swirls of milk twirl in the liquid. Deciding to try again, Chad spoke. "Does it have something to do with your friend at the grocery store yesterday?"

"Isaac?" She questioned, sighing and shoving the cup away as Chad frowned. "I forget sometimes that he used to play basketball. Taylor mentioned it once when we were at a school game, but now all I see is the big shot New York civil rights lawyer in his Armani suits. Jock isn't the idea I have of Isaac."

"I remember someone mentioning he busted up his ankle pretty good in his first year at college; it ruined his scholarship for the next year when he couldn't start," Chad had decided that Isaac was a safe topic seeing as how Gabriella seemed to muse out loud without censoring herself. "Troy used to really look up to him the year they played on the same team. Us guys on the junior varsity worshipped all of the senior ball players, but Troy was their teammate and no one could say anything bad about Isaac. I didn't recognize him at first, yesterday."

"His sister adored him," Gabriella replied softly, a small smile playing on her lips but not reaching her eyes. Chad leaned back against the counter, buttering a bagel and listening for sounds of the morning staff arriving. One of the ambulances was missing from the bay and he assumed that a team was still out on a run. "She dragged me home for thanksgiving in our freshmen year and during the whole ride there, all she could talk about was Isaac this and Isaac that."

"He said you're one of the family," Chad mentioned, curious because from what he knew, Gabriella and Taylor had only met in California six years before. Smirking, he continued, "I don't see the resemblance."

Gabriella laughed, her hands still tight around the mug of coffee and appreciation for Chad's subtlety burning in her eyes as she quieted and thought about the implication of the question. The McKessie's had been her family. Her father had died when she was young and her mother had been in and out of rehab in the years that followed. Gabriella had been raised by her grandmother who managed to keep her on track despite various obstacles and had been ecstatic when she had been accepted to UCLA on a partial scholarship. She had suffered from a stroke during Gabriella's junior year at college and Gabriella had dropped out to care for her until she died from a second stroke a few months later. By then, Gabriella had lost her scholarship due to absence and being unable to afford the tuition for the pre-med program, she had transferred to the two year paramedicine program offered by the nearby community college. Sighing as she remembered the support and encouragement that the McKessie's had offered her throughout the years, she felt the hint of guilt that had risen yesterday when Isaac had mentioned her avoidance of his mother who lived only a handful of blocks away from Gabriella's apartment.

"They were there when I needed someone," she told Chad, deciding to keep the details simple. "Isaac's younger sister was my roommate at UCLA and she made every effort to make sure I had somewhere to spend the holidays."

"Taylor McKessie graduated with Troy, Kelsi and I from East High," Chad mentioned evenly, watching for a reaction. Gabriella dropped her eyes, but kept her face blank of any further emotion.

"She mentioned you to me, once," Gabriella said quietly and Chad could feel the amount of strength that confession had taken. "I was trying to find something on her bookshelf and I came across her yearbook. We had only been roommates for a couple of weeks and with classes, we barely had time to say hello, let alone discuss our families and friends. Anyway, she flipped through it with me while explaining certain pictures and mentioning her friends. I remember there was this one picture of you and Troy goofing off in a tree and Taylor told me about your Drama teacher and her idea of detention. It was so offhanded and random that I knew you weren't really friends, but after Isaac mentioned basketball yesterday, I remembered that picture."

"The jocks and the scholars never travelled in the same circle. Plus McKessie never liked me much."

"She said that too," Gabriella replied, gazing past Chad's shoulder as if she was seeing something else. A shiver ripped through her and Chad wondered what had caused her to open up so much with only a few questions. "You were a smartass and class clown and Troy was the golden boy with everyone worshipping the ground he walked on. It's funny because after the past week, I still don't see that side of either of you."

"We keep it well hidden now," he joked, pushing away from the counter as the sound of an engine ripped through the room and the night shift returned with the ambulance. "What about McKessie?" he asked, hurriedly tidying the kitchen before a call could force them to leave it in a mess. His back was to her so he missed the pained expression that appeared on her face. "Is she still the enthusiastic poster-girl for academic achievement and fulfillment?"

There was a prolonged silence and Chad realized he had hit more than just a nerve or a soft spot. He had dug past everything else and found the epicentre of the mystery that was Gabriella Montez. Hearing her stool scrap against floor harshly, he looked over his shoulder to see her standing in the entrance to the TV room, one hand on the wall and the other holding her hair back. He couldn't see her face but his mouth turned into a frown as he noticed the harsh breaths rippling through her shoulder blades. Setting down the dishtowel, he took a step but she noticed the shift in movement and he froze when her head shook.

"No, she's not," she whispered before leaving through the only way that prevented Chad from seeing her tears.

* * *

Their first call came from the dispatcher just seconds after the official commencement of their shift. It was a vehicle collision at a local bus stop involving a school bus and a mini-van who driver neglected to stop at the stop sign. Gabriella and Chad joined the police and organizing the children until another bus could collect them, and treating the drivers of both vehicles for bruises and shock. After transporting the female driver of the van to the emergency room to be checked for whiplash, they managed to grab a coffee before an onslaught of calls piled up and continued all day. There was a kitchen fire on the lower East side and another car accident at the ramp for the interstate. A little girl at East Elementary broke her arm while climbing on the monkey bars and a football player at East High managed to bust his ankle during practice. A home nurse called for transportation for one of her patients who she suspected was having a third heart attack and an elderly woman called to say that she had been bit by a rabid squirrel. She had been the final incident for the day and Chad breathed a sigh of relief once they had delivered her to the hospital with a mention to calling for a psych consultation.

Climbing into the driver's side of the ambulance, Chad glanced in the direction of his partner and cleared his throat. Her gaze shifted from the front windshield to his face and back but he didn't miss the eye roll that accompanied the look. She knew he was trying to start a conversation and he knew she didn't want to, but Chad felt obligated to pull her from her own thoughts that had plagued her since their conversation that morning. Her response to his question about Taylor had been oblique and vague, something which baffled him given how easy all the other answers had come. He didn't know what to make of Gabriella's response, but his gut was telling him that he wouldn't want any more detail. Sighing, he began his tenth attempt of the day.

"So, you went to LA for school, but where are you originally from?" he asked breezily, spinning the wheel to bring the ambulance around a corner.

"LA," she responded in an emotionless voice, "Luther Heights in South District." Seeing that it didn't mean anything to Chad who had lived in Albuquerque all his life, she blew out air through pursed lips and offered up more information. "It's the equivalent of Albuquerque's High Street District," she told him, naming the area of town that was continuously fought over by two of the city's biggest gangs. Drugs and shootings were frequent, although she had yet to do any paramedic runs to the area.

"So you were one of the lucky ones who managed to get out and go to school," Chad mused, wondering how many layers they were to his partner.

"You could say that," she answered, resting her elbow on the door of the vehicle and absently watching the houses fly by. "But I never really belonged there anyway. I was a Latina living within the Black gang's boundaries. Everyone left me alone."

"So what made you pick Albuquerque as a place to start over?" Chad asked, stopping at a red light and looking over at her.

"What makes you think I'm starting over?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The fact that you'd like to erase your past if you could. The fact that if you thought you could get away with not answering any of my questions, you would. The fact that you always look like you're a hundred miles away," he listed, serious and direct. "So, why Albuquerque?" he tried again.

"Because some things you can't run from," she finally answered, "And I decided that I was too tired to run."

* * *

Tossing her keys onto the table just inside the door to her apartment, Gabriella kicked off her shoes and flung her coat over the hanger on the back of the door. Padding down the hall, she entered the living room and threw herself on the couch, closing her eyes and bringing both hands to her head. Rolling over, she watched the black screen of the TV before standing and pacing around the coffee table to where the phone rested on a side table.

Pushing the flashing button that indicated there were messages, she ignored all the prompts that came before the actual messages, punching in needed numbers while she thought. It had been easy talking to Chad, and that could be a good thing or a bad one; it remained undecided until her brain could process the entire day and its effects. She felt guilty for dancing around his questions and answering them in ways that left him in the dark, but also kept her from facing the truth she sometimes avoided at all costs. To admit things out loud, to people like Chad who could actually be emotionally attached or affected by her answers, was something Gabriella hated doing. Her partner had known Taylor. They had memories together. In any other situation, he and Gabriella could sit around and compare notes on her OCD like tendencies and her harsh and sometimes brutal attitude towards guys. But this wasn't any other situation and Gabriella wasn't ready to see his reaction, or Troy and Kelsi's, when she let down the walls and gave them every answer. Rubbing at her temples where a headache loomed, Gabriella hit the button for her first new message, wincing at the loud, obnoxious beep that signalled the beginning.

"Hey, Gabriella, it's Nancy calling from Dr. Rife's office. The Chief at East sent us your schedule and the doctor would like to see you one day while you're off duty. Can you call us back to schedule? Thanks."

Gabriella saved the number and moved on to the next one.

"Ella, it's Isaac," she rolled her eyes as she listened, knowing that she should have expected him to call again, "I was thinking we could do dinner at the Italian place on Martin Street tomorrow night. Let me know if you're free."

The annoying beep sounded through the apartment again.

"Gabriella, this is Sarah El Cadro calling from the New Mexico office for MSF. I called last week about speaking at the national conference in a couple of months, but you never returned my call. I understand that you may not be willing to talk about your personal experience, but perhaps you could cover the basics on recruitment and training? Please let me know as soon as you can. Thanks."

"You understand, my ass," Gabriella muttered under her breath as she angrily cut off the answering machine from further messages, "You weren't there. None of you were there."

Leaving the room behind her as she left for her bedroom, Gabriella stripped her work clothes off and flung them in the hamper to be washed during her string of days off. Slipping beneath the sheets, she hugged the pillow to her chest and stared into the shadows on the wall. Need for sleep won out over her desire to stay awake, and she fell into her nightmares again.


	9. Chapter Eight

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Eight**

"_**Love is the only **__**fire**__** that is hot enough to melt the iron obstinacy of a creatures' will**__**"-Alexander MacLaren**_

_

* * *

_

Gabriella stared at her apartment, her hand exerting crushing pressure on the handle of her vacuum cleaner. Standing on the ceramic of the entrance tiles, her eyes examined the parallel lines of the carpet's grain, the alignment from the vacuum cleaner's perfect strokes. The glass tops of the coffee and end tables gleamed with furniture polish—streak free. Magazines were arranged by month on the corner of the coffee table. Gabriella reached forward to straighten an orange throw blanket, swiping at impossible wrinkles on the arm of the sofa. For the fiftieth time, Gabriella wondered what had possessed Taylor to decorate the living room with white and orange. For the fiftieth time, she pushed the thought away. The apartment hadn't been changed since she'd moved in and no one would ever believe that it had been touched by someone not Taylor McKessie.

In the kitchen, the sink was empty of dishes. The kettle and toaster were perfectly aligned between the stove and the refrigerator. A dishtowel hung over the handle of oven. Down the hall, Gabriella had scrubbed the bathroom floor until it gleamed; no longer holding a dull sheen of soot from her weeks of work. Towels were freshly laundered. The blue one and the green one hung evenly on the rack beneath the baskets of hair products. Her bedroom, once a spare room that had been intended for an office, was the only thing that was Gabriella's own invention. The four posted bed with the blue duvet cover and matching drapes. The small desk in the corner with her laptop and textbooks on emergency medicine.

On the day that Gabriella moved in, she had skimmed through the apartment, careful not to disturb anything until she was ready. Isaac had set up her bed and arranged the desk in the spare room. Her clothes were hung neatly in the closet and folded perfectly into the drawers, her books set on the desk with the bookends shaped like skyscrapers, and her photographs hung on the walls and set on the bedside table. Then she went into the other bedroom and removed the empty fish bowl. It now sat on the shelf above her desk, a small yellow fish swimming aimlessly around the fake sandcastle and plastic seaweed inside. Isaac had dubbed the fish Mac after it predecessor, Cheesy. Gabriella hated it, but it had stuck. Isaac didn't know that Noah, one of the camp translators, had had a habit of calling people by their last names.

Putting the vacuum cleaner away, along with mop and bottle of Windex, Gabriella stood idly in the kitchen. Twisting her hands, she mentally clicked through her list of things to do during her time off. Coming up empty, she checked the clock again. It wasn't even noon and she had cleaned every inch of the apartment, paid all of her bills via the phone or online, completed three loads of laundry and showered.

Free time had become her enemy and Gabriella felt the walls closing in around her as she tried to find something to do. Anything to distract her. Glancing at the refrigerator and its grocery list of seven things, Gabriella made a quick decision. She grabbed her purse and the keys to the Jeep, not even bothering to grab the grocery list before locking the apartment door behind her.

* * *

The sound of truck motors and their blaring horns that warned of incoming danger ripped Gabriella from her sleep. Bolting up in bed, her blankets twisting around her, she sucked in a breath and scanned the room for her belongings- And realized she wasn't in a tent, and the noise wasn't an alert for danger. A siren shrieked through the early morning traffic and the hazy sunrise outside the window pulled her into the present.

Still shaking, Gabriella left her bed to stand by the window. Lifting her head from the view of the street, she gazed over what she could see of the city. As her heart slowed its racing pulse and the sound of blood in her ears receded, Gabriella considered returning to bed. There had been a time when sleeping was a luxury she regularly cashed in on. Now, it seemed useless and foreboding. Letting the curtains filter light across her floor, Gabriella dressed quickly. After zipping up her hoodie and tightly lacing her sneakers, she slipped her keys into the pocket with her phone and left her apartment for the park a few blocks over.

The sidewalk disappeared square by square as Gabriella turned sharply at the gated entrance, the cement turning to gravel that crunched under her feet as she left the busy traffic of rush-hour behind. The air was cooler as the trees shot overhead, blocking out the sun for moments at a time. She wasn't alone. Keeping an eye on her surrounding, still new as they were, Gabriella noted the people walking their dogs or pushing their babies. Fellow joggers ran by or zig-zaged around her, some offering a quiet greeting. Her pace slowed back to an easy jog.

Running had been something she'd picked up during her first days back in the States. She had worked out while living in LA, but jogging on the streets was never something sane people did unless they were running from cops or gang members. After returning from the desert, Gabriella had felt caged inside her apartment or the local gym. Instead, she'd run outside, preferably somewhere away from roadways. Sometimes she'd run the stairs on the football bleachers at the local high school. Being fit had made her job easier and had kept her alive during her stint with MSF. For those reasons, Gabriella kept returning to the park on the East side of Albuquerque.

Her feet found the familiar path without thought, the ground slanting downwards slightly; the gravel more worn away. Several metres away, the trees thinned and grassy lawns flowed towards the foot of the granite fountain situated just beyond the end of the path. Her breath heaving in her chest, Gabriella pushed her bangs back from her face with a sweaty hand and she walked the seven steps to lean over the ledge of the pooling water. The cold water tickled her fingertips as she dipped them in the water, swirling it into tiny cyclones.

Then she lifted her head.

* * *

Troy used the hem of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Tipping his head back, he let the cool water from his bottle flow down his throat. He swished it around in his mouth and spit before capping the now empty bottle and tossing it towards the garbage bin. Lifting his head, he scanned the park while shaking the hair from his eyes. Troy jogged a few steps before launching himself into a heavier, steadier pace down the path towards the fountain.

East House had gym equipment set up in the living room for working out during shifts, but Troy tended to stick to his own routine. He had weights at home and he ran nearly every day even if it was up and down the street in front of the House. Some days the guys would play basketball with the hoop above the garage door. On his days off, though, Troy ran in the park across the street from his apartment where the constant buzz of people was muted and he could spend that little bit of extra time alone.

The path before him curved ahead and Troy raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden burst of light as he entered the clearing by the fountain. Slowing, he let his vision adjust. Taking a few steps, he dodged dogs and baby strollers. Skirting the fountain, he noticed that a photographer was dismantling his tripod and packing up his camera bag.

His feet seemed to stop on their own as his brain registered Gabriella leaning over the granite lip of the fountain. Her hands gripped the stone and her elbows were locked as if to sustain her entire weight. Troy's brow creased as he watched her. He had seen it before, girls locked in day dreams as they painted swirls with the water in the basin. Gabriella was different. Her back was rigid and while Troy could tell she'd been running by the spandex shorts and the sweat patterns on the back of her matching sweater, he knew that she wasn't trying to catch her breath.

Taking hesitant steps towards his new colleague, Troy considered turning around.

"Gabriella?" he called gently. She gave him no response. By the time he was beside her, Troy could see the shaking of her shoulders as her lungs inhaled harshly and the pale glow of her cheeks beneath her tan. "Gabriella?"

She didn't hear him.

* * *

_The wind was cool as it hit her exposed skin. Tugging the woollen coat tighter around her body, Gabriella shrugged her shoulders to her ears and buried her hands under her armpits. Sitting cross-legged on the edge of the stone fountain, her boots crunching on fallen leaves, she glared across the water to where her best friend fiddled with a switch on her camera._

"_Taylor, it's freezing, could you hurry it up?" Gabriella growled, swiping impatiently at a curl that had blown across her face._

"_That's your west coast blood," Taylor teased. "You'd never survive winter in Colorado or further north. Now sit still."_

_Gabriella dropped her shoulders and smiled as she had been ordered to do earlier. When the small red light flickered, she went rigid once again. Taylor fiddled with the camera for a moment, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth while she thought. A few times she looked back and forth between the view screen on the camera and Gabriella's position on the fountain ledge. _

"_Well?" Gabriella huffed. "Did you get it?"_

"_Yeah, I think so. There are a few good ones here for me to pick from. I really appreciate you doing this. Most of my assignments don't involve people actually posing. I'm used to the crazy 'hit the button and hope you got something decent' action shots," Taylor replied while detaching the flash from the body of the camera and packing beginning to pack it and other odds and ends into the bag at her feet. _

"_Well, any challenge should be seen as useful eventually," Gabriella told Taylor as she popped the collar on her coat up and tugged her knit cap over her ears. "You never know. Maybe you'll end up documenting more than parades and protests and baseball games."_

"_Let's hope so." _

_Swinging the bag over her shoulder, Taylor walked towards the entrance to the park. Gabriella couldn't move... _

Gabriella remained frozen as the photographer carried his gear back to the path that wound through the trees. In her mind, she watched Taylor follow him. Gabriella knew differently and she tried to push away the fog that surrounded her and blurred memory with reality. Taylor called her name.

"Gabriella!"

Ripped away, Gabriella found herself blinking rapidly at the person who gripped her arm. Her cheeks heated with humiliation when she recognized Troy. Worry and confusion were etched in his eyes. Gabriella turned away, back towards the now empty space on the opposite side of the fountain. A couple of kids had invaded the photographer's area with a soccer ball, erasing the setting for her memory.

"Gabri-"

"I have a picture of this fountain in my apartment. I think it must have been after a wedding or something because there are rose petals floating on the surface." Sighing, Gabriella ran a hand across her face and turned to put her back to Taylor's ghost so she could face Troy. "You probably think I'm crazy."

"I don't." She quirked an eyebrow at him in disbelief but didn't push the matter.

"It doesn't happen often," Gabriella started, looking at the ground, "at least, not while I'm in public. And I've been here before, so I didn't even expect it."

"Expect what?" Troy seemed curious rather than judgemental and Gabriella found herself exhausted.

"I became a paramedic because I couldn't become a doctor. I moved to Albuquerque because I couldn't go home to LA. And today I went running because I can't stand being in my apartment." Gabriella's mouth felt dry and she tried to swallow. "I didn't expect it to be this hard. It's there, all the time, hovering in the background, waiting for me." She sighed. "The fucking desert won't leave me alone."

"You're in Albuquerque, Montez, it's sort of an aspect of the geography," Troy answered awkwardly trying to reduce the tension in the air. Gabriella gave him a rueful look before turning back to the water's mirror-like surface.

"Yeah," she drawled sarcastically, "I know. But that's not the desert I meant."

* * *

Later that night, long after she had left Troy standing in the park by the fountain, Gabriella sat curled up on her couch. The patio door was open and the TV was on but muted. Her damp hair lay tangled on her shoulders. The telephone was gripped in her hand, the other holding the post-it with a number scrawled on it from earlier in the week. Closing her eyes, Gabriella inhaled deeply and exhaled through her nose, keeping the pounding of her heart at bay as she dialled the number on the keypad with a shaking hand.

It rang once, twice. Someone picked up on the third ring.

"Isaac? It's Ella. I need a favour." Gabriella paused as Isaac McKessie's voice drifted over the line from his cell phone. "I need to rent some storage space." She paused. "Yeah, I think it's time to move some stuff."

Ending the phonecall, Gabriella leaned her head back and closed her eyes, waiting for Isaac to call her back with the details.


	10. Chapter Nine

From Blood & Ashes

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.

**Chapter Nine**

"_**Just one spark starts the fire" –Send It On, Disney Stars**_

* * *

_Dust rose from the road, spinning with the movement of the jeep's wheels. On both sides, the land rose and fell in swells. Scrubby bush and scraggly, sparse trees dotted the landscape. Heat rose in waves that distorted the view, creating a rippling effect that made one think of water. The driver steered sharply to avoid a series of potholes and the jeep continued to rumble through the desolate countryside. _

_In the backseat, Gabriella grimaced and braced her aching body for another impact. Rubbing her head where it had banged off the support, she closed her eyes to block out the unforgiving sun. They had been on the road for more than an hour and she had not seen another group of people since leaving the tiny tarmac in the middle of nowhere. Gabriella couldn't decide if she was grateful or not. She had been told that no encounters were good encounters._

_The road stretched on. The scenery never changed. Another pothole; another bruise. Still no vehicles, no houses, no people. _

_Then the horizon changed. Like ants, crawling from the mouth of a disturbed nest, one truck after another crested the hill and streamed towards them. She could see the glint of metal but whether it was the shell of the truck or a weapon, Gabriella couldn't distinguish it. They got closer._

"_Where's your ID?" The driver in front of her had turned around and was shouting at her. "Make sure it's visible. Whatever you do, don't let them take it."_

"_Who are they?" She asked, fumbling to straighten the cord around her neck and clutching her passport and visa though the fabric of her pant pocket. "Why would they stop us?"_

"_They will stop us when they see you are American. And they would stop us anyway because the rest of us are not." Gabriella looked around to see the hard lines on the faces of her companions. "Don't look so terrified."_

_But she was terrified. Her hands were white in her lap as the military came closer. She tried to remember why she was here. Shutting her eyes, she waited for the onslaught of words she wouldn't understand and the foreign hands that would grab her. She waited for her first taste of hatred._

_Men were climbing down from their vehicle and shouting. Someone pulled Gabriella from the jeep, their fingers yanking on the cord of her ID. One of her companions pulled her out of the crowd, away from where they were searching the jeep._

"_It'll be over soon," he promised her. She nodded, looking up to assure herself that someone else was there. _

_His eyes were blue._

Gabriella's eyes snapped open. The darkness around her was unfamiliar, as was the couch she was laying on. Sitting up, she tried to remember. She was at East, her second of four night shifts. She had been sleeping on one of the cots in the room upstairs with Kelsi, but her tossing and turning had chased her down to the living room. It had been a quiet night; no calls.

Slowly pushing back the cobwebs of sleep, Gabriella fumbled to recollect her dream. The real event had been nonviolent and relatively free of stress. One truck had stopped and asked for ID. Satisfied, they had checked the boxes of vaccine being carried on the seat beside Gabriella and then waved them on down the road again. No one had had blue eyes.

Shivering, Gabriella pulled her quilt up and turned on the television. Even muted, the quiet hum broke the choking silence.

* * *

Troy couldn't take Zeke's snoring any longer. It would begin like a chain saw and then turn into a snort followed by an annoying shuffling noise in the bed before dulling to an even but heavy breathing. A few seconds would tick by, and then the cycle would begin again. Sighing, Troy swung his legs over the side of the cot and fumbled around in the dark for his sneakers and a sweatshirt. Pulling it over his head, he drew the hood up to ward off the dungeon like chill of the garage bay as he opened the door of the bunk room and began climbing down the stairs as quietly as possible.

A light flickered in the rec room, its eerie glow fading in and out with the picture he couldn't see. He paused in the doorway, about to flick on the light to help him find the remote, when he caught the figure on the coach staring back at him. Her eyes were drowsy with sleep, her hair mussed up from its usual silky curls or braid.

"You do know it's like three in the morning, right?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Can you put your hood down?" Gabriella asked in return, her voice shaking as she curled her feet towards her butt.

Troy did as she asked, a frown on his face. Her voice was so low, it was nearly impossible to hear her. She pulled the sleeves of her shirt down over her hands but he noticed the way they gripped her knees, her fingernails digging through the fabric.

"Are you okay?" He took a seat on the edge of the couch.

"Fine." The weak smile held little conviction.

"You were asleep down here this morning, too," Troy remembered and Gabriella looked away. "Does Kelsi snore or something?"

"It's just," she licked her lips and laid her head back against the cushion. "It's nothing."

"Well, I'll leave you to sleep down here then." He turned to leave.

"No," she called out, only slightly louder than before but it was enough to still Troy in his tracks. "You can stay. I can move over."

Troy lifted the blanket that covered her feet and took a seat on the extra long couch. Propping his feet up on the coffee table, he resettled the blanket around Gabriella. Silently, she offered him the TV remote. There was a basketball game on and Troy skimmed the channels to locate it. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Gabriella.

With all his might, Troy wanted to blurt out questions. Selfishly, not all of them were to know her but to hear what it was like. He had left high school with dreams of being a basketball star. Like all good parents, his father had pushed him to be the best and Troy had been. He wasn't the best at college and he wasn't the best in the US. Instead, he sat the bench most of the time and for Troy, there was more to life than just watching others play the game. So he had left school with his degree in criminology half finished, and moved home to Albuquerque to become a firefighter.

Troy had always felt at home within the boundaries of a team. He could lead, and he could take direction. Firefighting suited him as his father told him constantly. It mixed physical awareness with his desire to be in the community. The adrenaline rush was hard to deny as well. Despite the maturity that had settled upon Troy after one too many tragic endings on the job, the adrenaline kept him going. The thrill of the danger; the sweat and the perceived bravery. The heroism that people bestowed on him. It kept him from wallowing in the despair of what couldn't be changed—or those who couldn't be saved.

To Troy, Gabriella's past was a vault to be explored. He wanted to probe and examine the pieces to live through what she had. He wanted to know how the rush felt to be in the heart of danger. Yet, part of him wanted to protect her from reliving it. He hardly knew her and yet the vulnerability he so frequently saw seemed not to suit her. She wasn't comfortable in her own surroundings and she was constantly on a separate plane from the rest of them. The aftermath of adrenaline seemed to haunt her and Troy was curious to know what could do that.

She shifted and Troy realized that she was still awake. Her eyes watched something just beyond the TV screen. When a sudden flash of light lit her face, Troy saw the dilation of her pupils. Shadows flew across Gabriella's face as she turned her head towards him, meeting Troy's gaze. It was the first time Troy had ever felt that she actually saw him. Gabriella looked back to the screen.

"You were staring," she said softly. "Do you need more space? Or does the TV bother you?"

"No, I'm fine, Montez." Troy's voice was gentle. "You should get some sleep."

"Sleep is overrated."

"You won't be saying that when we get a call in two hours and you can't see straight." Troy's lips twisted into a smirk when she glared at him.

"I don't see you catching z's," she snapped. Troy had stepped beyond the boundary of co-worker. He'd sounded interfering.

"Zeke snores," Troy shrugged uncrossing and recrossing his legs on the table while slinging an arm along the back of the couch. "What's your excuse?"

"It's against protocol to be under the influence."

Troy barked an amused laugh, turning his gaze back to the TV. A few moments later, the implication of her words sunk in. He snapped his head back. Her head was cradled in the palm of her hand on the pillow. Her eyes were shut, but as he watched, the lashes fluttered against her cheeks.

* * *

Gabriella was awakened by the piercing scream of the firebells and the intercom system directing all available units to an apartment building on the corner of 27th East and Main. Troy was already on his feet when she sat up. His sweatshirt landed in her lap as he shed layers on his way to the garage bay. Pushing the blankets back, Gabriella grabbed her jacket off the back of the couch as she stood to shove her feet into her boots. Yanking her hair back into a ponytail, she pulled the elastic tight and laced her boots. From the bay, she could hear Chad yelling.

"Montez!" She quickly laced her boots.

"Yeah?" Her jacket was zipped.

"You loaded the truck after that fender bender last night, right?" Chad handed her a radio as she entered the bay, still working out the kinks in her back from sleeping on the couch.

"Yeah, we're good." The clock above the lockers told her it was 3am.

The drive was quick with full lights and sirens blaring. Pulling up to the curb behind two East fire trucks, Chad slammed the ambulance into park and jumped out. Gabriella was already pulling equipment from the back while evaluating the situation a few feet away. Flames shot from a set of second story windows, and smoke poured out. Troy and Jason were already rolling out hoses while Zeke twisted the cap off the fire hydrant.

Over the radio, Gabriella kept track of what was going on as she and Chad set up a triage spot on the sidewalk. A group of teenaged girls huddled under blankets, tears streaking their faces. From what Gabriella gathered, they had decided to hold a séance in the living room of one apartment during their sleepover. A sleeping bag had caught fire and then the sofa. The fire had gone rampant from there. Most of the girls only suffered from smoke inhalation. One had burns on her hands from trying to extinguish the fire. It had been her apartment. Another had burns on her arm where she had pushed open the door to the patio to get air. The fire had grown in the minutes since the East crew had arrived, engorging itself with fuel supplied by the structure of the building In the dark, the orange pulsated with heat, licking at the brick of the outer walls.

Shaking her head, Gabriella administered oxygen while Chad dressed the worst of the burns. Troy`s voice crackled over the radio from the western side of the building. Zeke`s responded from the Eastern portion. The ground was littered with glass that flickered in the crimson glow. Gabriella was reminded of sand but that was as far as the thought went. Jason`s voice flared on the radio.

"It's in the stairwell and we've still got people on the sixth floor." The static itched in Gabriella's ears as she looked up at the building. It was Chad that radioed back; a boxing match of voices trying to be heard.

"Where do you need us?"

"Zeke's rerouting people down an outside fire escape."

"The stairwell just collapsed."

"There's someone on a third floor balcony."

"Fuck, Zara, I told you they would jump."

"Screw off Danforth and get your ass there to help them."

"Why the hell isn't Montez wearing a helmet?"

"I left it in the truck; we were in a hurry."

"Montez, put the fucking helmet on."

"We're going to evacuate people to the fourth floor and then lower them from the balcony. Baylor, are you on the fourth?"

Gabriella tuned out the arguments and the orders and the commands as she and Chad raced to the southwest side of the building where a forty-something year old woman had jumped over her balcony instead of waiting for Jimmy Zara to find her in all the smoke. The woman was unconscious and Chad was yelling at people who had rushed forward to not move her. Kneeling down, Gabriella began an assessment, her gloved hands swiftly moving over the woman's body to locate any injuries.

"Head injury, spinal injury, maybe ribs," Chad started relaying the possibilities to the ER attendant at the closest hospital. Reading Gabriella's hand signals and gestures, he added: "Definitely leg injuries and a busted shoulder."

"Her airway is clear," Gabriella added as she slipped a c-collar around the woman's neck. Oxygen tubes went in her nose. "On my count, we can move her to the board. One, two, three-"

"Guys, there are people coming down the ladder to your left." Zeke was leaning over a balcony, his face hidden by the mask and protective gear. "Cross is going first and then five of them and then Neilsen. Can you triage them when they get down?"

It happened fast, but slow enough that Gabriella had time to react. A propane tank on a nearby balcony, it's white painted sides flickering in the glow of the fire, had heated past the level of safety. There was a deafening boom that blasted through the eardrums of everyone on site. Gabriella felt the sound slam into her and the heat rise towards unbearable. She had enough thought to throw herself over the victim on the ground before her muscles tensed in reaction to the explosion.

"Chad, the balcony!"

She wondered for a moment what the balcony was doing, not knowing where the explosion had come from but thinking that the static over the radio sounded muffled, but then something slammed into the back of her head. Stars exploded in Gabriella's vision as the inside straps dug into her scalp with the impact. She thought she would throw up. Then she lost reference to where the ground was. Chad's voice filtered through until she found him leaning over her, yelling into a radio while prodding at her helmet that was still strapped to her head.

"Montez? Gabriella!"

"Stop shouting," she growled, gripping his arm and hauling herself back up. "People will think I'm dead. What the fuck was that?"

"A support beam from the balcony on the story above us. Propane exploded. Follow my finger," Chad demanded. "Blink. Where are you?"

"I am sitting on the ground. Now, could you move? We need to move our patient. I am fine." Gabriella crawled to her knees, the ground seeming unsteady for a moment but then it settled. Her vision was nearly normal and except for a throbbing headache, nothing seemed off. "Seriously, it caught the helmet and it didn't fall that far."

"You're getting checked out the first chance we get."

"No, I'm not. I am fine. I'm not even dizzy."

Chad eyed her sceptically, relaying the message over the radio to the Chief who was shouting for information. Gabriella ignored him and the pulsing pinch between her eyes. She'd been concussed before and knew to trust her own assessments after incidents. She would have a headache that she could sleep off when the shift was over but the helmet would have protected her from receiving even a tiny lump.

"You're seeing a doctor. Chief's orders."

"I have a radio too, Danforth. Chief said shit."

Chad said nothing, but she could feel him watching her as they loaded their patient in the ambulance along with three burn victims. Gabriella sat in the back with them while Chad drove. She made sure he didn't see how the harsh fluorescent lighting in the back of the truck made her squint. He couldn't see the black spots that danced whenever she looked up.

* * *

Dawn was peeking through the windows of the emergency room's waiting area when Gabriella and Chad dropped off their final patient from the fire. They had made four or five trips during the past two hours, their victim from the balcony being the most crucial. It had been a lucky night for injuries. Now, after restocking supplies and swapping empty oxygen tanks for new ones, Gabriella could only think of going to her apartment and crawling into bed. Her jaw hurt from clenching each time the hospital lighting burned into her pupils and her neck felt stiff. Troy's comments about sleep were dead on and Gabriella felt that conversation had occurred days ago instead of hours.

Beside her, Chad took his time weaving the stretcher with its fresh linen through the narrow corridors and aisles of the ER. Gabriella was convinced that his plan was to keep her in the hospital until she passed out so she would have to see a doctor. She had other plans. It didn't stop him, though from constantly watching her. Pausing just inside the main doors, Gabriella relieved the stretcher of some of the gear to make it lighter to steer on the curb. She pressed one finger to her temple and grimaced when Chad's radio began squawking. The fire crew were headed back to East.

"You could get tonight off if you ask Chief. He'll understand," Chad said, turning down the volume on the radio.

"Chad, it's fine. Leave it alone." Gabriella argued as she swung her bag over her shoulder and began hauling equipment back to the ambulance waiting outside the emergency bay.

"Look, I get it. You want to tough it out, fix it up yourself with some ice back at the house. Whatever. But we are in the ER and at the end of our shift. I am sure one of these lovely nurses will find a doc to check you over." Chad had managed to plant himself between Gabriella and the double swinging doors. When her glare didn't cause him to back down, she attempted to simply walk around him. He moved with her, mirroring her sluggish movements. Her pounding headache had crept up to rest behind her eyes.

"All I need is some sleep and a shower. Please, drop this." Gabriella had hoped to keep the pleading from her voice and simply sound annoyed, but Chad had caught the glimpse of vulnerability and fear across her face as well as the way the flickering florescent lights made her wince.

"No. You're having someone check you out. For God's sake, Gabriella, you got hit in the head with half a balcony," Chad protested loudly, garnering the attention of the male resident in a white coat picking up a chart at the front desk.

"I had a helmet on," she argued back, dropping the gear in her hands and throwing them into the air in frustration. She ground her teeth at his over exaggeration. She'd seen the piece. Nothing to worry about.

"You lost consciousness."

"Is this true, Miss?" The new voice was unexpected and Gabriella whipped her head around sharply to find its source. The resident stood behind her, his hands already reaching to remove a small flashlight from his front pocket. "Did you lose consciousness in the field?"

"I got dizzy," Gabriella corrected, turning to glare at Chad, "For like, five seconds. It's gone."

"Do you have a headache?" The resident asked, one hand reaching to grip Gabriella's chin and the other shining the flashlight in her eyes. "Nausea? Blurred vision?"

"My vision is fine," Gabriella growled, trying to pull her head away. She was aware of how others in the waiting room had taken notice of the threesome. "This is completely unnecessary."

"I'm deeming it necessary. You could have a concussion." The resident nodded to Chad as Gabriella's mouth hung open. "Your partner will notify your chief of command and then come find us in cubicle six. Do you have a medical file with this hospital?" He turned to make sure Gabriella was following him past the front desk, leaving Chad behind while he spoke quietly into his cell phone.

Defeated, Gabriella simply shook her head. "No," she answered quietly, staring at her hands as the resident guided her towards the bed and gestured for a nurse. "I just moved to Albuquerque. Chief has my file."

"That's fine. I'll have someone bring it over."

As he left, he didn't see Gabriella bite her lip or the way her hand went instinctly for the charm dangling from her neck.

* * *

Troy guided his white pick-up truck through the streets of Albuquerque to the hospital. Beside him, the plain brown file folder seemed to burn for his attention. Taking the next left through the intersection, a right and then another right, Troy pulled the truck into a parking spot in the ER lot between a black convertible and a red mini van. Chad and Gabriella's ambulance was still parked beside the curb. Shutting off the ignition, Troy unbuckled his seatbelt and turned in the seat to look at the folder.

He had just gotten out of the shower when Chief had called him into his office to relay Chad's message from the hospital. A doctor was holding Gabriella pending x-rays and CT scan to rule out a concussion. Troy had smiled at the Chief's wry comment of Montez being stubborn. The smile had quickly vanished however when he was given the task of driving her medical file down to the hospital. Apparently her full medical history was required to be assessable in case of emergency and Chief had not had the chance to drop it off himself before the debris of the balcony had slammed into her head.

Troy hadn't looked at its contents. He had glanced at it long enough to see her full name scrawled out: Gabriella Carmina Angelo di Montez. It was a mouthful and Troy found himself whispering it aloud, rolling the syllables. And yet, despite the way her name and the file called to him, Troy had ripped his gaze away to watch the road, refusing to give in. He knew what he would find in it. Chief's orders had been to tell the hospital staff to copy anything necessary and give the originals back to Gabriella. Her assignments would be inside. Her time in LA. Her reasons for coming to Albuquerque. The answer to how she'd gotten the jagged white scar that stood out across her abdomen when she had stripped off her sweatshirt the night before to put her uniform shirt on over her tank top.

It would be easy. Open it, read it, put it back together and give it the receptionist at the nurses' desk.

He would know though, and somehow, Troy knew that would be unacceptable to Gabriella.

Casting another scathing glare at the folder, Troy grabbed it from the passenger seat and slid out of the truck. Inside, he caught sight of Chad who waved to him while sipping a cup of coffee. Troy waved back but approached the reception desk first, needing to rid himself of the temptation.

"I have a file for Gabriella Montez," Troy informed the nurse quietly, sliding it across the surface into the pretty blond girl's waiting hand. She flashed a smile. "Chief said to make a copy and send the original back with her when she's released."

"I'll let the doctor know," she assured him, spinning away on her chair towards a filing rack. Troy stepped away from the desk and turned to where Chad was waiting.

"Where is she?" Troy asked, leading Chad back to the coffee maker to fix his own cup. He knew it would be horrible but he needed to do something with his hands.

"Cubicle six, down there on your right. She's waiting for the results but the doctor thinks she's fine. No weird vision things anymore and her speech hasn't been slurred. She's got a headache but that's not major concern yet." Chad sipped his coffee before digging into his pocket and pulling out a bottle of water. "I grabbed this for her from the staff lounge. You want to take it to her while I go move the ambulance? They're bound to start bringing people in and it's in the way."

Troy left the waiting area of the ER and followed Chad's directions to the individual cubicles at the back. Following the carefully labelled sets of curtains, he paused outside one Gabriella was in. The curtains were closed, their particular shade of blue blocking even a shadow of anyone inside. Clearing his throat, he knocked on the metal pole and called her name.

"Montez? You decent?"

"By hospital standards." Troy grinned at her annoyance as he ducked through the barrier and let the curtains fall behind him.

"I brought you water," he told her. His eyes scanned over her as she took the water and screwed off the top. Her hair was pulled up in a bun, showing the lines of her neck and shoulders that were exposed by the flimsy hospital gown. Her back was exposed; the shirt only tied together with strings. Troy swallowed and moved so he could sit in front of her. "Nice outfit."

"Shut up," Gabriella growled, rolling her eyes.

"Lighten up," he joked, leaning back and crossing his feet. "I think it's sexy. Only you could pull it off."

"Other than Kelsi, I'm the only one who needs it," she shot back. "The rest of you would be in here in the buff trying to flirt with the nurses."

"True." Silence fell over them as Troy watched her take tiny sips from her water. One hand toyed with the necklace she still wore. She was lost in thought. "Gabriella?"

"Hmm?" she seemed to shake herself, and then looked at her watch. "You should go. I'm sure Chief didn't give you the day off just to drop off my file. You could get a call."

Troy nodded and stood, stretching his arms over his head. Gabriella drew patterns in the condensation on the bottle. Taking a final sip of the coffee, he tossed the rest in the garbage, staring at it for a moment before looking back at Gabriella. She turned, not meeting his gaze. Her feet swung absently from the bed.

"Gabriella?" She didn't look up but he saw her listening. "I didn't look at it." She was silent, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "It's not for me to know."

He was just about to the lift the curtain and leave when she answered quietly from behind.

"Thank you."

Troy gave her a small smile and left.


End file.
